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There is a difference between comfortably tired and painfully tired. Comfortably tired means I could drop off into a nap at any moment and it’d be a peaceful slumber. A painful tired is a pounding headache, exacerbated by the jitters from coffee fueled wakefulness.

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Unlike two weekends ago, last weekend was brilliant. I spent both days with my little family, and had a lot of one on one time with Nora. As I was telling Lisa a few days ago, when Lisa was working the big firm job and wasn’t home, I had a lot of alone time with Nora. I’d pick her up from school and I’d feed her, play with her, run errands with her until it was time to pick Lisa up from the train station. Since having dropped that, and Lisa staying home with Isaac full time and with Nora twice a week, I feel like an absentee father.

I know I’m not. In an ideal world, I’d work part time (or not at all) and spend most of my day spending time with the kids and running the house. There are very few things that I feel I’m ‘good at’; raising our kids and running a house are two of them.

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This sounds like bragging, because it is: we went to Bertucci’s last night for Mother’s Day, and our kids were the best behaved kids in that joint.
/brag

It’s nice to go somewhere and NOT have the kids running around screaming bloody murder or pitching fits. Isaac was smiley, Nora ate and played quietly and was perfectly pleasant and charming.

I couldn’t ask for more. I really couldn’t. And we were there for a WHILE, and it was fantastic throughout. It may not happen again, but at least I know the two of them are capable of it and we have pleasant memories of the evening.

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