Me: Are you ready for me to wash you up [in the bath]?

Dylan: Nope.

Me: Why not?

Dylan: Cuz I don’t want you to live in this city.

When you finally have a moment, you’re fried.

That’s the essence of the issue. It’s not like I never get “a” moment. But those moments now happen to come at a time, when I have nothing left in reserves. Like for instance, at 9:30pm, when both boys are asleep and finally it’s “my” turn, or “our” turn.

But by then, what’s left? The dregs of my brain, the minimal energy in my body? What have I to do with those except lay them down and succumb to the next round of interrupted sleep…it is what we do. It is what all parents of young children do, I suppose. Except for perhaps those rich Mommys with nannys, I suppose. But what fun is a nanny? Someone to handle the ups and downs of your own children? No, thank you really, but no. Not that it’s a consideration, but if it were, I’d have to turn it down, flat.

As my wise mother said last weekend, “they are small for a much shorter period of time than they are grown.” And implied: cherish every moment.

And that is exactly what I intend to do.