"Raising a kid is part joy and part guerrilla warfare."
~Ed Asner

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Inhale...

And....................................Breathe.  

Today has been a day for taking deep breaths and exhaling slowly.  The babies didn't fall asleep until 10:00 last night.  I was hoping they would sleep in, but my sweet Izzie crawled into my bed this morning before Kris got home from work...It was earrrlly.  The usual shenanigans began with Izzie crawling under the breakfast table and bugging Noah, and then Noah pinching his finger and screaming.  Izzie spent most of the morning making Noah laugh and then hurting him.  After lunch Noah starting bugging and hurting Izzie and Izzie kept saying, "Momma, Noah's hurting me."  

We have a family reunion tomorrow so I have some baking to do.  As soon as I walk into the kitchen Noah assumes he's going to eat.  I swear he could eat all day.  He clings to me and says, "Eat, eat..."  The two words out of his mouth the most are 'eat' and 'milk'.  Sometimes I think it would be easier to hook him up to a milk helmet.  All I can say is, Thank God, I'm not nursing.  My poor boobs would probably have fallen off by now.  Sorry, I said the word boobs.  I had a nightmare once when Noah was a baby.  He was chasing me with a thirsty look in his eyes saying, "Milk, milk, milk..."  I couldn't get away from him.  Imagine being hunted and chased down by a baby who can crawl at super speed.  That will keep you up for weeks.  

Then Izzie comes up to me and I tell her that I will play with her later but I have some things I need to do first.  I tell her to go play with her brother.  
 She reply's,
"I don't want to play with Noah."
"I don't want to play by myself."
"I want you to hold me."

Okay, so I hold her for awhile and then I peel her off of me and settle her in with some books.

I started baking and cleaning, in between hugs, kisses, and being a referee.
I went downstairs and discovered that my basement threw up laundry everywhere.  After cleaning up the laundry vomit, I now have six loads to wash, 1 load in the washer and 1 load in the dryer.  Some of you may be disgusted by me referring to my laundry as vomit, but keep in mind whose clothes I clean....I'm just keeping it real.

Usually, I can handle whatever the babies throw at me with patience and grace, lotsa of it.  But sometimes lack of sleep and life catch up and I have a hard day.  I'm still so very thankful every day for my children.  I love when Noah comes up to me and says, "Mamie? Milk? Mamie? Milk?"  Or he'll say, "Mamie? Eat? Mamie? Eat?"  It really is adorable.  And then he gives me a hug and a kiss, and it's all over.  I give him whatever he wants.  Well, no I don't.  Sometimes I do.  And when I don't, it's hard...real hard....    



 

No comments:

Post a Comment