Evening

Emily had to go into the city the other day, and got home late, so I got both kids, gave them dinner, and put them both to bed. Here's a quick recap of how it went.

5:15 p.m. Jack's class is in the tumble room, basically a gym at daycare where they run around, climb on things, and ride little cars or push big bouncy balls around. I wave to him and head off to get Kate, since he has fun in the tumble room and dragging him around for everything makes it all go slower.

I go to Kate's room. She sees me, yells "Daddy!" and runs over with her arms out. It's always nice. I gather her lunch and jacket and hat and sleeping toy. She always wants to carry her lunch and sleeping toy, which I extricate from her just to get her jacket and hat on. Sometimes the hat stays on, sometimes she pulls it off. Sometimes it ends up over her eyes. "I can't SEE," she laments. I fix it.

We go upstairs to Jack's room and collect his lunch, jacket, and hat. Exchange pleasantries with other parents. I know some names, others I know merely as "Olivia's Daddy."

We collect Jack. It's a chaos of sheets to sign, jackets and hats to get on, lunches and sleeping toys to keep track of. And that's just Jack and Kate; other parents show up too with similar baggage. I ask if Jack napped, always important because it makes a difference of about an hour in his bedtime.

We walk to the car, both of us holding Kate's hands. Clamber in. "Can we hear Poker Face?" asks Jack. The Lady Gaga CD is a little too omnipresent in our lives these days.

At home, the kids run wildly around the house while I assemble dinner. This is sometimes fine (they play with toys that are out) and sometimes not (they dig out new toys and create a huge mess, often resulting in lost pieces, instructions, that kind of thing). Every few minutes it's guaranteed that one of them comes in wanting water (OK), goldfish (No.), dinner (Soon.), or help finding a lost piece or instructions.

6 p.m. Dinner. Jack normally eats well, Kate, eh, sometimes yes and sometimes no. I bribe them to eat more with the promise of gummi bears. Hate to resort to this, but sometimes I do; kids gotta eat.

6:30 p.m. Bathtime. Kate tends to complain too much. I put shampoo on her head. "OWWWW!" she says. I wash her face. "OWWWWWWW, DAddy!!!!" Good grief, Kate. I do the shampoos early, then let them play after that. Then wash the rest of them (down as far as possible, up as far as possible, then wash their possible, thanks Mom).

I get both out and wrap them in towels. I dry Jack and send him off to his room to get into his pajamas. Sometimes he's quick about this, sometimes I'll find him sitting naked on his floor 10 minutes later playing with some random toy. Jack, it's freezing, get dressed. I bring Kate into her room to get her lotioned up and dressed. She insists on putting on her own pajama pants, which basically means I get her the rest of the way dressed, go check on Jack, and come back and put her pants on 5 minutes later, collecting them from where she's tossed them after giving up and going to play with some random toy.

I brush both's teeth. Kate occasionally resists. "My turn...ME do it....MY turn.!!!!"

I put Kate to bed. Stories, songs, bed.

Jack napped today, so we head downstairs. We play Toy Story Yahtzee Jr., his current favorite (it's pretty cool, a birthday present), then a little bit with his monster truck set. This is a pretty cool thing where the goal is to vault each little truck into a plastic flame in the middle of a cage. The goal is to hit the fire! Kind of funny.

Jack and I go upstairs to read books. Sometimes these are good, sometimes not; I let him pick the books, unless they're all really horrible choices and I have to sub one out. (I need to draw the line about how often I read "Shark in the Park.") Then it's lights out, at which point he decides he wants some water, naturally. Emily gets home in time to kiss him good night. Good night, Jack.