I was sent an Angel

Today was a different day. Gigi and I spent the morning at home instead of being out anywhere but home as we usually do. I was skeptical of this, since it hasn't worked before. Usually a morning spent at home ends in an afternoon of tears, mostly mine. The kind of tears that flow easily after the nerves have rattled all they can rattle.

But today was new. Gigi played by herself for almost a half hour. THREE TIMES. That's almost 90 minutes of peace! I hardly knew what to do with myself.

The first time, I read the news online while Gigi played with the large plastic box of Easter stuff I took out yesterday. It was stuff she'd never seen before - plastic pastel eggs with cute cutouts in them, a variety of colorful baskets, plastic green and straw grass, miscellaneous chick and bunny things. She only looked up at me when she sensed I was spying on her, then just went on with exploring.

The second time I did some paperwork. I sorta cheated and put on Baby Einstein. She's never sat by herself and watched it, so I expected her to come pitter-pattering back to me within minutes. Nope, she sat there in a car seat (I hadn't put it back downstairs yet) for 25 minutes. I rustled my papers as quietly as I could, afraid if she heard me she might notice there was life outside the TV. When it was over we had lunch and I tried to put her down for a nap. 45 minutes later, she won the nap battle so I took her out to play in Harrison's room.

The third time, I read a book while she played with Harrison's Legos. Yeah, you read that right, I READ A BOOK. This has never happened with her, and surely never happened with Harrison, who expects to be entertained every waking hour as if he were a King. She played long enough that I was able to comprehend what I was reading without reading the same paragraph 15 times. Granted, the book I was (re)reading is the most brainless book I've ever read, and arguably the most brainless book ever published. My only saving grace is that I stopped halfway through and decided I could do better, must do better.

As wonderful as this day was, I'm not keeping my hopes up. Only last week I had the worst night with the kids I've ever had. The three of us maintained a tantrum that lasted almost two hours. It was bad even before Gigi stepped in my steak. Which I was eating. At the dining room table. That part made me laugh. I do have a sense of humor. But I lost it and didn't regain it for quite some time.

If I have just one day a week like today, I'll be thrilled. It'll be something to look forward to during those endless evenings when I'd hand over my spleen for just 5 minutes of peace, let alone 90 minutes.