This is my view from Ezra's bottom bunk. Adelaide is clamoring to climb up and nurse AGAIN (you know, because I'm sitting down, a perfect reminder to her that - "hey, look - it's Mama! the one with the milk! laying down just waiting to nurse!"), Calvin and Ezra are in the midst of performing a show, though it appears as though they're having a hard time deciding exactly, who's scene this really is.
I'm pretty sure I have about the worst sense of time management. I have no idea how long it really takes me to do anything, and always seem to think I can do far more than is really possible in any given amount of time. Sometimes, that's a good thing - I have plenty of ideas that I think are really doable, say 'yes' to lots of opportunities, and inevitably, I do end up getting many things done. But sometimes it can really kick me in the ass. Like when it comes to the deadline of something (or, many things) and I'm shocked to realize there simply are not enough hours in the day to make it possible. I'm having one of those weeks right now. Holiday stuff, book stuff, family stuff - with far more things 'to do' than there is time for. And of course, I'm sick on top of it all (or, because of it all).
Before kids, I used to crash at the end of this cycle. Plan, work, stress...crash. Man, I could get it done, but then I'd be a mess. I can tell that this week before the holidays would be one of those crashing times. But you know, the beauty of my babes, is that it just isn't possible to sit and wallow in the amount of 'work' to be done. Nor is it possible to burn myself (and therefore, everyone else) until it all does get done. And so, hopefully this week, I can remind myself to stop and slow down, let a few more (or many) 'plans' and expectations go, and get my butt back there on that bottom bunk to nurse my babe and watch the show. It's the best show in town, and I get a front row seat. What beats that?