cookies.

I am listening to my husband and Ethan bake cookies in the kitchen. After an entire day of boycotting naps, Carmen fell asleep at 7:30 and I'm trying (but not too hard) to not be lulled to sleep myself listening to her white noise machine over the video monitor. It's been a long day. We are in the throws of a new and exciting (I'll keep telling myself that) season of life and I am handling the change poorly (that's code for eating lots of chocolate) and it's all just very overwhelming. Four out of five days of summer camp as a prequel to school down and it's apparent I'm really bad at getting my kid dropped off someplace on time. I guess this is the thing that Experienced Moms joke about, car lines and drop offs and school events that I've never been able to join in any conversations about because my kids were little and school was so far in the future. Well, here I am. This is my stop. (Please pass the chocolate.)

Tonight the cloth diaper laundry will wait and I'll leave the LaCroix cans littered all over the tables because it must be at least midnight, only it's not even nine. I'm listening to my husband and Ethan bake cookies in the kitchen and Ethan is so hopped up on sugar and adrenaline and whatever-it-is that makes five year olds run at the speed of light constantly, and my husband is so obviously exhausted but acting so engaged in measuring organic cane sugar. It's hard not to smile through the exhaustion as Ethan is chattering about wanting a spot of tea and my husband has no idea what he's talking about and in nine minutes the cookies will be done and everyone is just so overdue for bedtime. I'm equal parts exhausted and also pumped and ready to take on the future that is staring me in the face. It's where exhaustion meets happiness and even though your eyes are burning, with the last bits of energy you're able to muster, your mouth forms a smile.