Well, I've been afraid of changing 'cause I've built my life around you...
"Landslide" by Fleetwood Mac
Don't be led astray by the Fleetwood Mac quotation at the beginning. This is not a serious post. On the contrary, the "you" in that sentence would have to refer to regular sleep or some other such thing in order for it to be appropriate. I've just had that song stuck in my head while I've been planning this post.
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| Sweaty self-portrait |
You see, things
are changing around here. Every day I look around our house and things are different. The boys are bigger. My belly is larger (pictures to prove this will be posted next week). The Man's pre-deployment To Do list has shrunk a bit more. Last week, the Little Man opted out of night time diapers. This week, he and Tiny start their two day a week Mother's Day Out program. What am I going to do with all that free time? Oh, yeah, doctor's appointments. Never mind.
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| My crazy second child |
Also, unfortunately for me, Tiny has finally decided that he's too cool for the crib, yes, even at naptime. This has led to a lot of excitement in the early afternoon for everyone involved and a lot of late afternoon grumpiness for me. So far, the boys have indulged themselves in water fights, each sitting on their own bed, slinging water at each other from their sippies while giggling hysterically. They have ripped the sheets off Tiny's bed and had a bed jumping party. They have man handled the blinds and done long-term damage to their library. They have gotten in a whole lot of trouble. And in between, maybe, they have taken naps. I miss them napping in separate rooms. Life is hard... And, incidentally, Tiny is an instigator--don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
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| Demon Cat |
Another, somewhat more positive change (depending on who you are in this scenario) is that the Man and I have finally reached our limit with being woken up in the middle of the night by Oswald. It took us seven months. Seriously. Nightly wake ups for seven months where that Cat demanded to be put in the room, then an hour later put out, then another hour later brought back in. And leaving the door open was not a solution. Neither was leaving the door closed. He would throw himself bodily against the door repeatedly until we let him in so that we didn't lose what is left of our sanity. But no more. As of last Friday, he (not quite voluntarily) sleeps in the guest room. Sure, this may seem cruel, but it's less cruel than my sleep deprived self accidentally strangling him in the middle of the night.
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| Sunday morning donuts--not a change, just awesome |
I had another change I wanted to share with you, but I haven't quite made it happen yet, so talking about it seems a bit premature. Plus, there were supposed to be pictures. Awesome ones. So now that you know how badly I am slacking, I will just tell you that it has something to do with Littles and his deep and abiding love of schedules. First question out of that kid's mouth every day: Mommy, what are we doing today?
Evidently, today he's going to be building a pillow fort with his brother while his lazy mommy writes a blog and eats homemade bread in the kitchen. And on that note, I should probably go change (haha) Tiny's diaper.
