My days consist of:
about 10 wet diapers and 5 seedy, poopy diapers
a 3-year-old who talks back and yells at me all day
half-assed dinners that are usually chicken and always have a salad out of a bag
at least 2 loads of laundry
a shower every 3rd day (if I’m lucky)
breastfeeding 500 times
trying for an hour to get Lowe to nap for 2 hours only to get about half an hour
night sweats so bad the bed is soaking wet and I can’t get comfortable in it despite putting 2 bath towels next to the bed so I can lie on those after I wake up each time
waking up at least once in the night to let Reeve pee
constant struggles with the damn swaddles that don’t hold his arms in
pacifier fights….Lowe won’t take one except this one random Batman one
rushing to school, then pick-up, then swim lessons then naps then trying to keep Reeve entertained all afternoon then watching the clock to see when Kirk will be home then fighting over baths, stories and the fact that there is nothing to be scared of in Reeve’s room
I’m not complaining, not at all…I wouldn’t trade this life or the opportunity to stay home with my boys for ANYTHING….I just also don’t want to ever forget this crazy, hectic time in my life where I see dishes not put away or dog hair on the floor or toilets that need scrubbed.
I simply don’t even care anymore…and that is totally NOT me. I just don’t care.
I’m too busy soaking up Summer Love and Lowe and Reeve and who gives a crap if I wash my hair every 5th day?
The babies sure don’t.