Both boys are sound asleep upstairs. This is not surprising since they were both still awake at 3:30 this morning and tapping away on their computers when I made my usual trip down the hall. What is there about college that turns otherwise normal people into zombies?
The living room (OK, "parlor" is what I usually call it) is awash in boxes, backpacks, and books. This is on top of the usual chaos which I generate all by myself. Still, it's lovely to have them home. I miss them when they are gone. This "mothering" thing has become a bit of a habit. I now tell total strangers and co-workers to remember their sunblock or bring their umbrellas. After more than twenty years, there is no "on-off" switch to throw, a concept which the boys just don't get, even though they now know all there is to know.
So they sleep as Himself and I head out the door to work. In a few weeks we will all be heading out to work....or we'd better be...and there won't be as much incentive to stay up all night chatting with friends in Nepal. At some time or another the really important knowledge arrives that "sleep" is not only not the enemy, it's the prize.
The living room (OK, "parlor" is what I usually call it) is awash in boxes, backpacks, and books. This is on top of the usual chaos which I generate all by myself. Still, it's lovely to have them home. I miss them when they are gone. This "mothering" thing has become a bit of a habit. I now tell total strangers and co-workers to remember their sunblock or bring their umbrellas. After more than twenty years, there is no "on-off" switch to throw, a concept which the boys just don't get, even though they now know all there is to know.
So they sleep as Himself and I head out the door to work. In a few weeks we will all be heading out to work....or we'd better be...and there won't be as much incentive to stay up all night chatting with friends in Nepal. At some time or another the really important knowledge arrives that "sleep" is not only not the enemy, it's the prize.
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