I guess this happens to every working mother at certain points in her life. She arrives home late, totally exhausted from the day’s work, and it is less than an hour away from the children’s bed time. She has two choices, one, to duck into the shower for half an hour and come out refreshed, eats her long overdue dinner, and by then the children are all ready to go to bed, or has already gone to bed; or she just sits around watching her children play, while she drifts in and out of consciousness, throwing the normal bedtime routine out of the window.
Today I did the later. I simply sat around, watching the children play. They were playing the normal stuff, Lego and other forms of building blocks. And then from a seated position, I collapsed onto the futon, and just laid there like a beached whale. Of course, at 33 weeks of pregnancy, I do look like a whale in any position. As my children lose interest in their building blocks, one by one they climbed over my gargantuan belly and started to hug me and kiss me in whatever way they wanted. I simply lay still, basking in their attention.
And as if by magic, one by one, they settled around me in seemingly prearranged positions, Cat on my left, Ben on my right, and Augustine somewhere near my head, and all of us drifted into sleep.
I guess when mummy is tired, it is always better to just be around and enjoy the precious few minutes of togetherness than to attempt to do anything else…