Life Over Here6:57 PM
Fast forward to 7:45 p.m. Otto is comfort feeding for the 45th time in an hour. Milo is thinking of anything and everything he would rather be doing than going to bed. I want my juice. How dare you mother, I don't want my juice. I want my lion. No I have to get it mom. Let me go downstairs. Let me go upstairs. We need to build one more tunnel. Lay down with me. Turn on my light. Turn off my light. Open my door. Shut my door. I want to go to the moon and swim across the Pacific Ocean before I go to bed please. And all the while, I'm nursing a fussy Otto with spit up running down my back and climbing the stairs for the millionth time and getting juice one handed and wondering if I'll be able to move by the time he makes it to bed.
Talk. About. Bone. Tired.
But then there's all the wonderful, beautiful moments in between. Like when Otto stared at me with this look of pure love from the bath and I swear I felt like the most beautiful girl in the world despite my messy hair, sweatpants, and tired eyes. Or when Milo answered me, yup, I know you love me. Or when he came to me this morning, snuck up behind me, and yelled, "you gotta wake up mom! Let's play!"
And in between the highs and lows, there's a whole lot of normal. High fives, hugs, pb&j, laughs, 5 more minutes, apologies, pleases and thank you's, books, whining, lessons, tears, walks, uh-oh's, look mom's... These are what make up my life.
And I'll tell you what, some days I'm just really worn out and I have to apologize more than others. Some days feel completely peaceful and Heaven sent. And the combination of all of them is the definition of happy.