Climb On : Preferably Without Injury

I went climbing with my sister today and almost killed her. And in the process ripped a bunch of skin off my pinky.  But I learned an important lesson: when belaying, let the rope out slowly and keep your fingers away from the ATC device.

Listen to me, dropping lingo like I know what I'm talking about. LAUGHABLE. I'm still such a beginner. A newb. A no0b, even. But in the most simple of simple terms, belaying = holding the rope for the person climbing and keeping them from falling (hint: I failed at this). ATC device = I don't know what this stands for, but it's a little thing that the rope goes through when you're belaying someone that helps control the rope and provide friction. Google tells me ATC stands for air traffic controller, which....okay? I guess? I don't get it.

We go top-roping, which means that the climber is attached to a rope when climbing (and the belayer has the other end to keep the climber safe). After she reached the top of the wall, it's my job as the belayer to lower her back to the ground. I went a little too fast when lowering her and lost control a little bit and ripped the skin of my finger a little bit and, um, dropped her a little bit. Luckily she was almost at the ground and luckily there are thick mats surrounding the climbing wall, so she didn't get hurt.

BUT MY FINGER THO.

(Actually hurts quite a bit.)

(that's a Black Diamond Harness and chalk bag, FiveTen Rogue shoes, and a Camelbak water bottle WHICH I LOVE OH SO MUCH)

And I feel ridiculously guilty. Even though she told me it's fine. Even though I successfully belayed her several more times that night after learning a new technique. Even though she claims to still love me. We'll see.

When you climb indoors at a gym, there are holds bolted all over the walls and specific routes marked, meaning that you can only use specific holds to get to the top (for example, you can use only ones marked with yellow tape).  They give the routes punny names, like "Florist Gump." Each route has a different difficulty level, based on a number of factors, like the sheer number of holds available to get up, the type of holds ("jugs" are holds that you can grab and get your fingers into and are the easiest type of hold to use, whereas "crimps" are these tiny motherfuckers that you can't really grab and can just barely get your fingertips on - a more difficult route would be low on the jugs and high on the crimps, for instance), the amount of overhang, etc. Traditionally, the hardest move on a route determines the grade. So if a route is incredibly easy but has one really difficult move, it's rated on the level of the really difficult move.

The ratings go from 5.0 to 5.15, with 5.0 being the easiest and 5.15 being the hardest. I know. It's a weird system. 5.0 to 5.5 apparently don't really exist. I guess? At least not in my gym. I trained on the one 5.6 route that they have.  Then I've done two 5.7s to completion. There are two more 5.7s that I'm working on (a route you're working on completing is called your "project").  There's a huge leap between ratings and a huge range within each grade (hence being able to complete the one 5.6 route the gym has easily but still struggling on 5.7s). My sister, who has been going for almost a year, is still on 5.8s (though she's about ready to move to 5.9s). My other sister, who has been going just a couple months, is also on 5.8s, just to put it in perspective.

We also boulder a little bit, which is climbing without being attached to a rope. You can't go up nearly as far safely (the bouldering wall at our gym tops out at maybe seven feet?) but there's a ton of overhang and a ton of strength needed for even the easiest routes. You often start with a sit start, meaning you're literally sitting down and grabbing the rock from that position, so it takes a ton of strength to pull up from that position. Bouldering routes are rated from V0 to V16, and there ARE routes all the way down to V0. I've done a V0 but am struggling on a V01 (harder than a V0, but easier than a V1).  Like I said, there's a HUGE difference between difficulty ratings.

Also, I'm pretty sure boulderers look down on top-ropers. I think there's some rock-climbing hierarchy and I'm at the very bottom of the very bottom.

Here is the face of an exhausted, injured beginner climber

All that is to make this next part make even the slightest bit of sense to all you blog readers (ALL THREE OF YOU!) - I want to keep a running log of where I'm at and what I'm working on, and of course it only makes sense to do it publicly in order to ensure the most humiliation when I fail. Right?

Climbing Summary 4/1

Kimber
Attempted: 5.10 "Dr Moorehead"
Cleaned: V01 (bouldering); 5.7 "The Crag" (twice!); 5.7 "Leadable"; 5.8 "Florist Gump"
Current Project(s):

Lara
Attempted: 5.7 "The Crag"; 5.7 "Leadable"
Cleaned: V0 (bouldering); 5.7 "Steve's New Route"
Current Project(s):  5.7 "The Crag"

Life as I know it is over.

Remember last month? When I blogged about how having two wasn't really that hard and most of that was coming from the fact that I got a couple hours of free time to myself each day? When they both napped? At the same time? For like two hours? Every day? And it was awesome?

Let me refresh your memory:

What is hard is rarely having yourself to, well, yourself.  I'm lucky, like I said, and I actually get some time during the day and evening to myself when they are sleeping concurrently...usually. However, on days when Carys rejects her nap and is awake all day, I usually get to a point where I. want. to HIDE. Five minutes to shower, PLEASE. I'll even take two minutes to go pee by myself without someone needing me. On the days when they both don't nap, it's 12+ hours of constantly. being. needed. And touched. And serving two little dictators with no regard to yourself. With no break. Really, it's hard enough to go all day like that WITH a nap and an hour to yourself. On days without that hour break, it's just really, really hard.

I also said:

Also, thank god for naps. Please don't stop napping til kindergarten, Carys.

So karma decided to punish me for bragging and now Carys doesn't nap.  WHAT THE FUCK, KID? You're supposed to nap until you're three. THE BOOK SAID SO.

It's like a 90% chance she'll skip it any given day.  Swim class followed by four hours at the zoo where she walked the entire time? No nap. NO NAP. It's super awesome because now she's exceptionally grumpy come bedtime (but an earlier bedtime doesn't seem possibly - she already goes down at 7:30 or 8). It's super awesome to have to be "on" for fourteen hours a day. It's super awesome to have a toddler breathing down your back every minute and super awesome to not ever take a shower alone again! SUPER AWESOME FUN DAY!

I kid, I kid.

No, no, I don't. It really sucks.

On the plus side, though, I no longer have to schedule our days around naps (and have a little bit of time before I'll have to start doing so for Emmeline), which means we have slightly more relaxed days and can spontaneously do things as soon as the mood strikes. And she's slowly getting adjusted to less sleep, so the grumpy evenings are improving.

Oh, and also...

Speaking of sleep.

She sleeps in the hallway now.

Yeah.

It's either a parenting win or a parenting fail (probably fail) but at least she goes to bed without a fight.

She was having a really hard time going to sleep, for several weeks. It was becoming a ridiculous spectacle. One night, she kept coming out and laying down in the hall and I put her back a hundred times and on the hundred and first time I went to put her back and she'd fallen asleep. The next night she came out again, and I asked her to go to bed, and she said, "No, thank you, please. I sleep here," and promptly fell asleep.  At that point I had to ask myself if I really wanted to spend two hours going back and forth with her every night, and whether I really cared where she fell asleep, as long as she fell asleep. And I thought really hard about it and decided that nope, I don't care. I just want her asleep, without a big production.

So the next night I asked her if she wanted to go to sleep in the hallway or in her bed. And she choose the hallway. So together we picked out a pillow and a stuffed animal and made her a little bed outside the door, and she promptly fell asleep.

And she has repeated that every night since.

And it's a parenting win because she's sleeping without a fuss.

But obviously also a parenting fail because hallway.

DIY : Coconut Oil Sugar Scrub

I've been making this coconut oil sugar scrub for myself for a few years now, ever since I discovered the magical cure-all that is coconut oil, and made it for a few people for Christmas. All but one of them (what, don't you like it, mom!?!?) asked for directions to make it themselves. So maybe it's good? Maybe it's something people like?

All I will say is that I used it religiously with Carys when I was pregnant with her and only had one stretch mark (named Judy). I was not nearly so diligent with using it when I was pregnant with Emmeline and got like a thousand stretch marks.  COINCIDENCE?

PROBABLY.

So this is easy. There are a ton of variations you can do to personalize it to your preferences - some are pictured below.

But the basics are coconut oil and sugar.  Use white sugar for a soft, gentle scrub; brown sugar for a slightly more exfoliating scrub, and turbinado sugar for the scrubbiest of all.  Sometimes I go a little crazy and mix more than one type of sugar in! HOLD YOUR HORSES.

INGREDIENTS:

- Coconut oil (I used this one)
- Sugar (white, brown, or turbinado)

OPTIONAL INGREDIENTS:

- Other oils, such as olive oil, almond oil, or vitamin E oil (I got the olive oil and vitamin E oil at Trader Joe's and the almond oil here)
- Scents, such as vanilla (my preference), lemon, orange, lavender, or eucalyptus

1. Gather your supplies. Don't forget the two-year-old who won't stop touching everything.

In this picture, going clockwise from left, are turbinado sugar, white sugar, olive oil, almond oil, vitamin E oil, coconut oil, lemon essential oil, vanilla, and eucalyptus essential oil. These are just options - you really just need the two basics. For this particular batch, I used coconut, almond, and vitamin E oils, the turbinado and white sugar, and vanilla.

2. Mix the sugar and the coconut oil in about a 50/50 ratio. Err on the side of too much sugar. This particular tub of coconut oil was about 2/3 gone, so I just made the concoction in the coconut oil container (it's actually the PERFECT size and plastic, so I can keep it in the shower).  I let Carys help. Pouring sugar in a small container is apparently messier than I anticipated.  Keeping it real in the pics below. Mess, represent.

The coconut oil will be solid at room temperature (unless it's really warm). That's okay. Just scoop some out like ice cream. Once you add the sugar and start to mix it up, it will start to liquify.

You can be done here. EASIEST SCRUB EVER. But I like to be unpredictable so I kept going. What will I add next?!?!?!

2. Add any other oils - I added a few good drizzles of almond oil and vitamin E oil. It's okay to skip this step, or to add just olive oil if that's all you have on hand (I've done it that way and it's still awesome). You want to maintain the 50/50 sugar/oil ratio.

3. Ours was looking a bit soupy (you want it a thick hummus-like texture) so we Carys added more sugar. A lot more. Whoops.

3B. Add a little more oil to counteract the extra sugar. Repeat ad nauseum.

4. Add the scent. I REALLY love the vanilla with the coconut and the sugar. It's like a delicious dessert. But I've made it with orange essential oils before and that was really nice, too. I add a capful, and then a little extra splash just to really push the crazy.

5. Mix, mix, mix.

You'll likely have some white chunks in it. Don't worry about them.

6. Go take a shower and come out smooth and yummy-smelling. I use it on wet skin, and do it as the very last thing so that more of the oils stay on my skin and don't get washed off. But you can use it on dry skin for a really rough scrub.  When I use this, I don't have to put lotion on afterward. It's slightly oily but dries really quickly - and leaves your skin SO SOFT.

Note: The next morning you might find that the coconut oil has solidified and left a white solid layer on top of the scrub - that's fine. Just use your hands in the shower to mix it back up. You might also find that the scrub has become soupier as more sugar dissolved in the oil - just add a bit more sugar to fix that issue.

Enjoy, and try to refrain from eating it! Carys has. She says it's delicious.

Climb On : A Little Something for Me

A lot of this blog  Most of this blog  This entire blog is pretty much about the girls. Getting pregnant, having a baby, raising a baby, raising a toddler, getting pregnant again, having another baby, raising a baby again, raising a baby and a toddler....it makes sense because, well, that's my life. The girls are my passion and my reason for being and my two favorite things in life. I love being their mom, I love being with them, I love it all. Except for these incredible toddler tantrums that I think are a glimpse into the world that is Three and let me tell you...I want a refund. I don't want to take the trip into Three. I'll keep Two, thank you very much.

All that is to say that I don't do a lot that is just for myself. I sometimes do a shoot or a wedding here, or a trip to Target there, or an adult outing way over there, but it's rare. Before I got pregnant with Emmeline, I'd started going to the gym with my sister several times a week and taking Carys to the gym daycare there. After I got pregnant again, I got too lazy to keep going (that 1st tri exhaustion is no joke) and then I was too big to keep going and then I had just had a c-section and then I had a newborn and long story short, I cancelled the gym membership. But I've been itching to be active.  After multiple failed gym memberships, though, I've come to the realization that I just am not a gym kind of girl. I'm a long bike ride kind of girl. I'm a go on a hike kind of girl. I'm a rock climbing kind of girl. WHAT? Rock climbing?

YES.

My sister (via her boyfriend via their friends) started rock climbing (sport climbing) at an indoor gym and has been loving it. I couldn't go with her for ages since I was, you know, gestating a kid, and then couldn't go because I wasn't cleared to work out. But I finally got a chance to go with her this last week and I. am. in. LOVE. It was so incredibly fun.

I'm still a total beginner - I did my first belay training/test last week and should get certified this week - but I got shoes and my own harness (no more stinky gym rentals for me!) and am planning on making this a weekly thing.  There are lots of young chicks out there doing it (although it's definitely male-dominated) but not a lot of 30-something, stay-at-home moms who are wickedly out of shape doing it. At least not according to Blogs On The Internet. So this should be an interesting journey.  If for no other reason than the lingo. Which is awesome. Climb on!

In other news, Carys started a tumbling class a few weeks ago. This last week was week four of six. The first two weeks, she was in class with two completely adorable but crazy rambunctious twins (we'll call them L and V, since those are their actual initials and I'm not creative) who ran all over the place like little madwomen. It was funny, but I felt bad for their poor mom, who was so clearly frustrated with them. For the two classes they attended, she threatened that they would go home or skip next week pretty much the entire time, and now they haven't been in the latest two classes, so maybe she followed through on her threat? All that to say that it's a one-on-one class now, which is pretty awesome. She gets the teacher's full attention and gets to do so much more each class and is loving it.

Andplusalso she looks like she's five now and it's ridiculous and makes me die a little inside. In equally good and bad ways.

And the baby is pretty damn cute, too.

Letters to Emmy : Three Months

February 12 through March 12, 2014

Dear Emmy,

I'm writing this on the last day of my maternity leave - I go back to work Monday. Can you give me just a minute while I go in a corner and sob? How are you THREE MONTHS OLD, GURL?  Life is passing too quickly. Everything is going by too damn fast. (Melodramatic much?) I already feel like I wasted the last three months, even though I spent minutes and hours and days and weeks holding you and breathing in your essence. But turning you over to someone else on Monday is going to be hard. Harder even than leaving your sister, because she was staying at home with family when I worked. You're going to a really great, small, in-home center (because all our relatives are jerks with real jobs now) but it is terrifying to leave you with people who don't love you as much as I do. I didn't have to leave Carys with a non-relative until she started at preschool when she was 18 months old. HOW WILL I DO THIS? I'm freaking out just thinking about it now. You're still so tiny (okay, maybe not on the charts, but to me you are!). Is it too late to move to Norway or somewhere with 10 year long maternity leave?

You've changed so much between two and three months and have lost so much of that newborn-ness. You're gaining control of your movements, have discovered your hands, and can grab toys hanging from your playmat. The first time you did that, you couldn't stop smiling. You've started talking to us with soft baby coos and gurgles and just look positively delighted to be a part of the conversation.

Your hair disappeared rapidly, as I feared/expected, but I thiiiiiiiiink it might be starting to grow back. Maybe. It's still so fuzzy and soft, and you still have the dark fringe around the bottom and....that's about it. But it's okay, the baldness only serves to accentuate your giant blue eyes and round head and chipmunk cheeks. And seriously, that is one adorable round head. And those dimples. I cannot get enough of those dimples.

You're growing out of all of your 0-3 clothes (and maybe I'm still shoving you in a few of them because I REFUSE TO LET GO) and into the 3-6 month clothes. You're equally giant and tiny. Every time I put you in a 3-6 month sleeper and it's too big still, I'm a little relieved, I'm not going to lie. I'm looking forward to knowing toddler and little kid Emmeline (not so much tween Emmeline) but I am okay with it taking forever to get there, especially if you're to be my last little baby.

You strongly dislike tummy time and being woken up and the first few minutes in your car seat and middle of the night diaper changes. You love baths and your changing table and your playmat and the mobile above your swing. You love one finger in your mouth and your Wubbanub paci. You love being held (by anyone, you don't care who) and sleeping in the crook of my arm. You love both your sister and dad and will give them quick smiles and track their movements.

I sometimes feel guilty about not getting as much one-on-one time with you as I had with Carys, but I do one thing with you that I didn't with her that evens it out a bit - I bedshare with you. I put you in your little bed next to mine when you go to sleep around 8:30 (as I did with her) but after I nurse you the first time, I usually just keep you in bed with me (following all safe sleeping practices, obviously, like keeping all pillows and blankets away from your face, and I have a Snuza on you at all times). It was a long time before I mastered side-lying nursing with Carys (like she was probably 6 or 9 months old) and by the time we did, she was already sleeping in her crib. With you, I nurse you and then we both go back to sleep, blissfully in each other's arms (literally - you tuck one arm into my underarm and usually have the other flung against my chest). It makes me feel a little better that we have these sleepy nighttime cuddle sessions to help even things out. And I HATE waking up in the morning and having to move you. I would literally lie in bed all day long with you like that if I could. There's nothing better in the world right now.

My sweet, chill, go-with-the-flow Emmy. My sweet chubby baby with dimpled cheeks and roly-poly thighs. I love you so much.

Love,
Mama

The Transition to Two

The transition to two has been...interesting. It's a lot easier than I thought it would be overall. But I need to justify that remark: Emmeline is a very easy baby (how much wood can I knock on here? all of it. I knock on all of it)*. She rarely cries unless she's hungry or hurt ("Carys! Please do not try to bounce the baby's head!"), she's generally easily soothed when she is crying, and she goes to sleep very easily.** She's happy to be put in her swing with her paci and watch the mobile. So she's an incredibly easy baby thus far and I'm incredibly, incredibly lucky, especially since Carys was also easy. I'm totally due a difficult baby now so I probably shouldn't chance a third kid.***

*Please don't hate me. Maybe it's just karma giving me a pass since our first pregnancy was so hard? Or the baby stork knew I needed an easy baby since I'm alone with both of them 9am to 10pm during the week and eight hours each weekend day (I completely know that's nothing compared to military wives and single moms)? Maybe it's just luck? Maybe it will all change tomorrow. Who knows what will happen with these tiny unpredictable beings? A sleep regression might hit and it'll be all WHOA KID HERE HAVE SOME NYQUILL and I'll be hiding in a closet.

** Carys went to sleep easily for the first few months, then totally disintegrated and needed to be rocked/nursed to sleep for ages and ages, so I don't expect this to to continue.

***I say "I" because Chris has said I'm welcome to a third kid but he won't be the one providing the other half of the DNA. We'll talk again in a year or so. ;)

With Emmeline being so easy, I can absolutely say that Carys has been the more difficult kid of the two. But if I'm trying to make you hate me even more, I'll be honest and say our "difficult" toddler is really not that difficult. She's a pretty easy toddler and a good kid (where'd that wood go?).  Lucky as heck again.  However, Carys is not yet three, and I hear from virtually everyone that it shouldn't be the terrible twos but rather the super-horrible-awful-where's-the-wine terrible threes. I am not looking forward to that. I am hoping that her cuteness picks up just enough to offset any wretchedness that occurs (although let's be real - have you SEEN her lately? I don't think she can get any cuter).  This all means that this "easiness" could come crashing down at any moment, and you'll find me crying in a corner.

So overall I've been lucky, and have had only a couple times thus far where both kids were crying or needed me, and have been able to keep myself fairly sane. Or at least not any more insane than usual.  Two kids has been easy since Emmy lets me put her in the swing to take care of Carys, and it's been easy because they generally nap and go to bed at the same time, which allows me to nap (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) or catch up on housework. HA. I wrote that but it never actually happens. It allows me to nap. Or jump on Facebook. Or edit pictures. But rarely do I use it to catch up on housework, which explains a lot [looks around at messy house].  It's been easy because Carys (usually) loves her little sister and because Carys is old enough to do many, many things on her own - get her own water, go potty, clean up, get her preferred toys out. It's been easy because Carys is also old enough to help out with the baby. She's not babysitting or changing diapers, but she can grab me a burp cloth or a diaper when needed. I give the girls baths at the same time and they go down for the night around the same time and they usually nap at the same time as well.  Also, she potty trained before the baby arrived, so I only have to deal with one in diapers during the day (though Carys is still in diapers overnight).  Carys plays really well independently, so when I need to nurse Emmeline, she's happy to play with her playdough or do stickers or stamps. And, as I said earlier, Emmeline is an easy baby who doesn't demand my complete attention. This is all pure luck, not some parenting coup. I'm not that great of a parent, but I do have great kids. Makes my job easier. Thanks, girls!

However. It's not ALL a piece of cake. Some things are hard.

What is hard is finding space for all the shit that accompanies two kids with completely different sets of gear. So. much. shit. SO MUCH.  The swing. The bouncer. The bathtub. The Boppy. It all takes up so. much. room. I cannot walk a foot without tripping on some sort of kid paraphernalia.

What is hard is trying to find time to take a shower because you have to do it when they're both sleeping (because who knows when the big one will decide to try to pick up the baby and give her a bath or something) and when they're both sleeping all you want to do is sleep.

What's hard is getting up the motivation to do quick errands, because it takes longer to get both kids packed up and in and out of the car than it does to run the errand. Truthfully, the IDEA of going out with both of them is much more daunting than the actual going out. Usually, once I'm out, I think it's easy. But the idea of doing it? HARD.

What is hard is keeping up with the insane amounts of laundry that another tiny person adds to the mix (it's enough that I was tempted to not cloth diaper, but our neighbors gifted us a pack of size one diapers and after using them here and there, mostly out and about, it reminded me of why I hate them and love cloth). But seriously. Emmeline is like 10 pounds. How did she quadruple the amount of laundry I have to do?

What is hard is finding a baby-sitter you trust with two kids, one of them being a super active crazy toddler and one of them being a delicate baby. It can be hard enough parenting them on your own, and you do it 24/7 - how can you trust someone else to do it? Also, who is crazy enough to want to do it? How do people with four or six kids ever find a sitter?

What is hard is feeling like you're constantly ignoring one kid for the other - feeling like you're constantly putting the baby down to focus on the big kid (since the big kid will remember all those times you say no, so you want to say yes as often as possible) but at the same time feeling like you're constantly rejecting the big kid to focus on the baby (since the big kid can do so much for herself and the baby is helpless). It's hard feeling like you're not completely present for either of them. And having to say "not now" to a child who is looking at you with big eyes and asking you to "pwease!" put the baby in the swing so you can play playdough with them - the first time that happens, you just might cry.

What's also hard is feeling guilty that you don't have the one-on-one time with the baby that you were able to give the big kid - that the baby will never be the only one and never know what it's like to have all the attention for two years in a row. What's hard is at the same time feeling guilty that you don't have the one-on-one time with the big kid that she was used to for the first few years of her life.

What is hard is rarely having yourself to, well, yourself.  I'm lucky, like I said, and I actually get some time during the day and evening to myself when they are sleeping concurrently...usually. However, on days when Carys rejects her nap and is awake all day, I usually get to a point where I. want. to HIDE. Five minutes to shower, PLEASE. I'll even take two minutes to go pee by myself without someone needing me. On the days when they both don't nap, it's 12+ hours of constantly. being. needed. And touched. And serving two little dictators with no regard to yourself. With no break. Really, it's hard enough to go all day like that WITH a nap and an hour to yourself. On days without that hour break, it's just really, really hard.

What's hard is trying to balance the number of pictures on Instagram. If you post one of the baby, you'd better post one of the big kid lest someone think that you don't love the big kid just as much. Same goes with trying to keep equal kisses and hugs and cuddles and eventually, I assume, toys and timeouts. This one was mostly a joke. Except have you ever tried taking a picture of a two-year-old who doesn't want her picture taken? So it actually IS hard. In fact, I was so worried about making sure I was posting pictures of the hard kid to photograph (Carys) that I realized I hadn't posted any pictures of the easy kid (Emmy) in like a week. Overcompensate, much?

What's hard is trying to convince the big kid is that a baby actually IS delicate, and while you know she wants to carry the baby across the tile floor herself, it just isn't a good idea, and that you'll do it, but thanks for the offer.

What's hard is getting the fingernail polish out of the carpet that spilled when you were giving the baby her second bath of the day and the big kid was supposed to be napping but woke up and silently got into your bathroom cabinets and painted her own nails. Well, painted her own nails with whatever was left after she spilled the majority of it on the carpet.

The answer to that last one?

Goop.

Also, thank god for naps. Please don't stop napping til kindergarten, Carys.

The Truest Words That Were Ever True.

I posted about this on my Facebook a while ago, but stumbled across it again and was struck once more by how very, incredibly, heartbreakingly, wonderfully true these words are. I've rarely read something that touched quite so raw a nerve with me, that I could relate to so strongly.

The original blog post is at Momastery.com, here. I highly recommend the entire article, but this is the part that struck me so deeply:

________________________________________

How was my day? Today has been a lifetime. It was the best of times and the worst of times. There were moments when my heart was so full I thought I might explode, and there were other moments when my senses were under such intense assault that I was CERTAIN I’d explode. I was both lonely and absolutely desperate to be alone. I was saturated- just BOMBARDED with touch and then the second I put down this baby I yearned to smell her sweet skin again. I was simultaneously bored out of my skull and completely overwhelmed with so much to do. Today was too much and not enough. It was loud and silent. It was brutal and beautiful. I was at my very best today and then, just a moment later, at my very worst. At 3:30 today I decided that we should adopt four more children, and then at 3:35 I decided that we should give up the kids we already have for adoption. Husband – when your day is completely and totally dependent upon the moods and needs and schedules of tiny, messy, beautiful rug rats your day is ALL OF THE THINGS and NONE OF THE THINGS, sometimes within the same three minute period. But I’m not complaining. This is not a complaint, so don’t try to FIX IT. I wouldn’t have my day Any.Other.Way. I’m just saying- it’s a hell of a hard thing to explain- an entire day with lots of babies.

________________________________________

Every. Single. Word. is like it came straight from my heart. Every. dam. word.  Except "lots" of babies. I only have two. But sometimes it feels like lots.