This Keeps Happening

Gone are the days where I get my children to sleep at seven o'clock, head downstairs to a hot tub and a book.   I love that the children are growing up and yet again tonight they took care of themselves mostly.   We still have to be there and I want to still be there, but they're more independent now.   It's a nice thing. 

It wasn't even that long ago when my daughter lived in the same room as her brother.  When she moved out she seemed like a little girl.   I believe she moved out after COVID-19 started?  Now she is in control of her own room, manages her own clothes, and sometimes even cleans it (when requests are phrased as requirements.)

I'm not upstairs in the bedroom watching shows on some streaming platform in the dark on my iPad by nine o'clock anymore.   I'm down in the basement, checking on the prints, researching things to print, and doing emails for school, neighborhood, family, shopping, general computer stuff.   That's my life now.   It's not bad.  I like it and if I can get the work things done during the day then I can focus on more fun things at night like...you guessed it, 3D printing. 

What keeps happening is I look up and it's late.   I realize I need to get a post in before Midnight and Midnight is seriously looming.   I've had to backdate posts because I've been up past Midnight some nights—and I never stayed up past Midnight a few years ago.

Last night I looked up, thinking it was probably eleven o'clock and it was twelve-forty.   I yelled out in the room, "that can't be!" because I couldn't believe it.   Where did the time go?  This keeps happening to me, loss of time and not in a memory loss kind of way.   

Tonight I'm going to make it upstairs before Midnight, but I'm cutting it tight.   Tomorrow is Friday thought.  Maybe I'll sleep in on Saturday.   The children have been nice and are letting us sleep in more and more often these days.   They're certainly growing up fast. 

The Big Boy Update:  I heard an interesting melody coming from the bonus room this evening.   I asked my daughter what it was and she said it was part of the game they were playing.   I thought it was something on Alexa, but no, it was my son playing on the keyboard.   He was making up something that was minor in key that had a haunting yet catchy melody.   I heard him play for another ten minutes or so.  He's never exhibited any interest before but maybe I should see if he's interested in piano lessons.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter is binging her lunch to school.   She loves the cafeteria lunch but they don't have that option now because meals are delivered to them in their classroom and there are no choices.   She was the one who insisted on cafeteria meals when she started kindergarten after requesting them.   Now, I think she's going to make her lunch going forward.  She has more control and gets to pick things she likes.   Also, she's pickier than I think she used to be.