Life Over Here

6:57 PM


Sometimes things get really intense. Allow me to set the scene for you: it's 11:30 in the morning. We are just pulling in from an albeit successful, intense grocery shopping trip in which Otto was worn by me and Milo was wrangled by me for the past 45 minutes. And let us not forget all the buckling/unbuckling/car seats that happened getting to and from the store. Otto is officially hungry and Milo is 30 minutes out from naptime. I park the car, say about 30 little prayers, take a deep breath, and it's (still) go time. Get the boys in. Get the groceries in. Don't let Milo run into the street and get hit by a car. Unload the groceries. Feed Otto. Feed Milo. Get Milo down for a nap. Get Otto down for a nap. Maybe. Or just keep him happy. Also a difficult task. By the end of all this, there is usually one word to describe my mood, and that word is hangry. 

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.

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