Wife Rule #146: It's Summer-time (and I am Tired)

I am tired.

Our little baby girl, Summer, seems to be a permanently attached fixture to my wife.

That means that she's busy all day, and up much of the night.

Except when she pleads with me and I stumble out to take the occasional turn for an hour or so, typically around four o'clock AM.

I've been back to work for a month now. The three oldest kids are back in school. Andrew started preschool. Charity started a playgroup. We have two piano players and three soccer players. Routines and schedules must be followed. Including early-morning schedules. Sleeping in is not an option, and I'm trying to exercise again.

Wonderful friends and family brought in a lot of meals after the birth, but even the leftovers are only a fond memory now. That means the family has been enduring repeat selections from Dad's "instant meal" repertoire: the kind I can scrap together with whatever food I thought to buy on the way home from work, the last time I thought to stop.

Because my wife is always feeding the baby.

Which means we're eating later. And cleaning up later. And going to bed later.

And I am tired.

The laundry is piling up. The house is getting messier, and I don't have energy to clean, or to get the kids to clean. My wife wants to clean, but spends nearly all of her time captive and immobilized.

She is often totally wiped out.

A few weeks ago I fell asleep during church choir practice. The sofa I was sitting on was a tad too comfy. They still laugh about it.

The lawn is growing. The weeds are happy.

But it's all okay. My wife and I are happy too. We have a healthy, beautiful baby girl.

And Summer smiled at me again tonight.