If today’s any indication, we have a fair amount of naps in our future in order to ensure continued harmony; she crashed for two hours after lunch, where not even the prospect of ice cream could keep her awake for long. But prior to that figgy was already displaying all the signs: unreasoning crabbiness, irrational thinking. At some point she inevitably comes back down to earth — between the early morninig and all day runninig around, she’s bound to run out of energy.
I still maintain that the secret to energy independence will revolve around millions of toddlers on treadmills, though. I’m always surprised by how quickly Saturday mornings can pass, though there’s tricks for that too. I’ll turn around and the room will be thrashed just like that — if the natural state tends towards increasing entropy, then children are the change agents driving that.
The truth is that you need to put in just as much energy to make it work, and I know how exhausted I am at the end of each day is testament — measure — of how I’m doing. And yet you know that there’s always more that you should have done. It’s days like these (tired, ashamed of some things, reflectively listening to her bellow for more attention) that I know there’s more in a Saturday than today, but sometimes the lessons are hard to digest.