This is what
9:45 looked like at my house tonight.
Two little monkeys asleep in
my bed because Daddy is gone and
Mommy is
too tired to fight two battles at once all alone! My kids are just not good sleepers. Never have been. Neither of them. I'm beginning to think it's my fault, since I'm 0 for 2. I had
big plans for myself for tonight. Plans that included a
bubble bath, maybe some piano music, most definitely
chocolate. But...these little stinkers changed those plans. After about 30 minutes of
Boston crying that he wanted to stay awake and "be my helper" (he could hear me doing dishes), I caved and let him sit on the counter and entertain Cade while I loaded the dishwasher. Then later, after about 30 minutes of
Cade crying because HEAVEN FORBID I should do anything but
bounce him to sleep and then
hold him all night, I caved and nursed him to sleep. (I say "caved" not because I am personally against nursing babies to sleep, but because it poses a significant problem for Jamie or anyone else trying to put him to sleep when I'm gone.)
I have to admit, earlier today I was feeling a little sorry for myself. Just having a blue day I guess. It was a frenzied morning getting ready and out the door for church. (My fault, because I didn't prepare my primary singing time stuff ahead of time...) Then on the way into church the key I recently had copied didn't work in the closet that I needed to get into to get the Mother's Day song poster; I had Cade + a million other things in my arms and kept dropping one thing or another every few steps (luckily not Cade); then my beautiful corsage Jamie had given me fell apart and hit the ground. At that point I had had it.
...and then...
I swore.
(just a little one, not a really bad one, but still)Yes. At church. Out loud. In front of my family. I'm *hoping* Boston didn't hear me, but he may have.
There, I feel better getting that out.
Anyway, after church and after all that I was just feeling exhausted and a little sorry for myself that I didn't get to spend Mother's Day relaxing all day, in my perfectly clean house, while being served my meals in bed and while keeping my pretty little pedicured feet up on pillows without a care in the world. (Because I'm sure that's what all you other mothers did today, right?) But I guess it just wasn't meant to be.
As you can tell, by the evening I was just in no mood to approach bedtime with any semblance of patience. So after trying
unsuccessfully to get Boston to stay in his bed, and trying
unsuccessfully to put Cade down in his bed, I just gave in. I piled both of them in the bed with me and let Boston fall asleep watching TV while I nursed Cade to sleep. And then as I laid there snuggled between my two slumbering angels, something clicked and I realized...
it really doesn't get any better than this. This is what motherhood is all about. What was I complaining about? I have two incredibly healthy and happy children. I have the gospel and a strong family to help me raise them. I have a husband who is working his tail off to get through school so he can support his family. I have a two year old who thinks his mommy can move mountains. I have a 6 month old who just loves to be close to me. It truly is a gift and a privelage to be a mother. It's hard to remember that sometimes in the thick of things (like when I can't remember when I showered last or when I can't remember the last time I slept more than 6 hours straight), but it's true. And I wouldn't trade it for the world.
Then he wanted to take a picture of me. Turns out it was just a close up of my snot-crusted shirt. My life is glamorous, what can I say?
So after zooming out, he took another picture of a crusty and sleepy Mommy. (bonus: messy living room) (those pillows are rarely on the couch where they belong.)
Then the creative juices really started to flow and he started snapping pictures of whatever he saw!
front porch...
the view from the front door (3 feet off the ground):
his favorite plastic stool...
the doorbell (with a "please don't ring the door bell, baby sleeping" sign because there's nothing I hate more than a sleeping child getting woken up by a door-to-door salesperson or, more common in our neighborhood, a Jehovah's Witness missionary.)
Linus...
his own piggies...
more flower beds...
Mommy's legs...
I kind of want to make that last one my background picture. Is that weird?
I practically have to drag them into the bathroom.
And listen to their screams as they sit and soak.
It's pure torture for them both.
And then tonight in the bath...after a haircut and a bruised cheek thanks to a run in with his best buddy in nursery. I walked in the nursery room just in time to see them running towards eachother. Boston wrapped Kenneth up in a hug and leaned backwards. They hit the ground with a thud and both starting wailing immediately! Kenneth had teeth marks in his cheek and Boston's cheek starting bruising and swelling up. I'm surprised he doesn't have a knot on the back of his head too; he hit it so hard I could hear it from the doorway!
Supervising the laundry-folding
