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| post-baby powder fight - Pepper won |
"I never had to exercise. I burned enough calories just chasing them around."
I wonder, 'Is this what is happening to me?"
My dinner last night equaled five bites of mac n cheeze and a fish stick.
The toddler diet, just add todders, and it's quite affective.
Beckam started walking on Thanksgiving.
I now have 2 toddlers.
He woke up at 5 a.m.
It is now 5:44 a.m.
He is quarantined in the bath tub, banging his toys against the porcelain, and nibbling a graham cracker.
Everyone else is asleep. In about an hour, Beckam will go back to sleep, and the rest of them will rise. I am the only person awake for all of it. I average 5-6 hours of sleep per night. On a good night, those hours are all in a row.
Mom is the hottest commodity in this place.
She is me.
Funny thing is, she represents only one facet of me.
Yet I am her about 78% of the time, even with my eyes closed.
This time, here at my computer, is one of the only spaces where I am not "Mom."
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| a bath fixes everything |
in the shower (sometimes)
driving in the car alone to pick up Sophie from gymnastics when I get to listen to my own music.
in bed with Andrew right before we both pass out mid-conversation, my head in the crook of his shoulder and his tattoos.
Running
For about 10% of weekdays, I am Art teacher.
However, this also involves children...other people's children.
50 of them...in one day.
I suppose this is why I can go for days without writing.
Because it is easier not to hope for time.
I don't want to start and get interrupted.
It is like a tiny heart-break when I hear their voices at the top of the stairs.
"MOOooooOOOm"
But just like heart-break, there is love in it.
So I get up from the computer, spread my smile on, and greet them.
Pepper's tossled hair pokes out from around the door jamb.
She looks lost and still dreaming.
I scoop up her onsie-feet from the linoleum and hold her like a baby.
"My girl...I am so happy to see you. Did you have a good sleep?"
To which she rubs her eyes, grins and nods.
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I can hear Beckam in the bathroom grunting...
Explosion.
Poop out the top of his jeans.
I get it on my hands as I try to take his clothes off.
I'll be good if I can get his shirt over his head without smearing crap in his hair.
At least it's not diarrhea anymore.
I am happy to see this poop.
Now it is 6:23.
My time is up.
both asleep in Beckam's crib
lol, i remember the poop explosions. and yes, the tricky part was getting the clothes of without getting more poop on the rest of him. especially in his hair. aww, but ya know, when i read this, and i remember when my kid was little, i miss it intensely. i miss taking care of him, and him being so damn cute. he is older now and doesnt need me to do hardly anything at all for him now. not that i dont try. but, there is a part of me that aches and wishes i had a little baby again. i dont know, maybe some day. i know i dont have to tell you to treasure this time, i know you know its significance and that it is limited time we all have. and that when its gone, we miss it. im glad you know that. i am so glad to be right there with your kids and they grow up and live there little lives. they bring a lot of joy to my life and the lives of others. im so glad they know me, and that im one of their favorites ; )
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