Claire and Seth are too awake too sleep.
Seth had a nap at 5. Pm.
I have no idea why Claire is wound up.
I have a PILE of work to do this evening. So of course it's a good time for boomerang kids. And blog writing. It's a list of deadline's style pile, so it's been a 'Mommy's not in charge' evening while Troy took over.
I've been sitting at this dining table, at this laptop, while the household revolves around me through the afterschool, supper and evening rhythms. Kid conversations offering mini breaks, little partners offering company while they color beside me. Max talks about his 'bwuubewwies' as he eats. A kid is delivered to my lap for a bedtime book, fresh out of the tub, the best kind of softest sweet smelling kid.
As I type this evening, design banners, prepare for our upcoming exhibition among mulling over four other big ol' projects, I listen to these two. They're tucked in our bed, not far from the dining room, mostly to keep the racket away from the two upstairs who are sleeping, and because bedtime is always more enticing when it's in Mommy and Daddy's bed.
Seth tells stories to Claire. They leaf through books, him deciphering a lot of words, her filling in picture details.
He is sleepier than Claire, and tells her, "Claire, the clock says eight five two. That means we stayed up too long Claire." She quiets, then changes the topic. She talks in her 'baby voice', so I can picture her dolly being the puppet talking to Seth.
Seth parents, telling her she has to close her eyes and try to think about nothing. It always amazes me when I hear my words come out of their mouths. Apparently they do listen.
This evening, Seth came into the kitchen with a crib board, asking Troy to teach him to play. Troy says, "It's quite a hard game buddy, but I can try to teach you." Sitting down, fiddling with the little pieces and the enticing board, the lines of holes that look like a race track, Seth asks, "But, how did you learn to play Daddy?"
A pause. "Well. My mom taught me."
Seth is so perceptive. He is a little startled and scans Troy's face for the feelings attached to this sentence. It's so scary to talk about someone you love when they're gone.
Deep into the instructions, Seth's face concentrating on his little hand full of cards and trying so hard to lock in the details, and Troy says, "Now that's the first part of the scoring."
Seth looks up, concerned. "After this, can we play Go Fish?"
We laugh, Troy replies, "Yes. That sounds like a good idea bud." Seth lets out a sigh of relief.
This office has the sweetest view.