It's not the surgery, it's the aftermath.
Piers and the Youngest One had a fine time at home while the others were in Paducah; as a matter of fact, he has been more solicitous of my attention than ever before. This morning, he cried because I had to hand him over to his mom.
Little Red has decided that I'm the one who needs to sleep with him ALL THE TIME. And of course, given that we're trying to get the boys to rest, I've obliged. I have a feeling that it's going to be a hard reckoning with reality next week.
Classes started last Tuesday, so we're a week in. I currently have a stack of papers to grade and a couple of classes to prepare for. To say that things have gone according to plan would be a gross exaggeration. I know I always have unrealistic expectations, but this is ridiculous.
Don't get the idea that I'm repining at having to help the children (and their mother) with the recovery--I'm just bemused at how thoroughly it has turned the household topsy-turvy.
Hot weather saps the will, and when the children are sapping the energy at the rate they're doing it, it's a remarkable thing that anything gets done at our household.
In an attempt to shine some sunlight in the house, I bought Mario Kart Wii for the family. It has been a lot of fun, though (as I should have known), it hasn't really helped the moods all that much.
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