Hello all, from the Pacific Northwest. Oh wait, we're still in Alabama. It just feels like the PNW because it's raining all the time. ha.
I love Fall and cooler weather but this is crazy. I have been cold for at least a week. It's time to pull out the winter weather clothes bins. The bins that have stayed in the guest room all summer because we just couldn't be bothered to put them in the attic. You have to pass the attic access to get to our room from the guest room and we have pushed them back and forth between the rooms several times for people to sleep in the guest room. We are on top of it, y'all!
Speaking of Fall, Tater fell last week while at the doctor's office. And broke his nose. Yes, a 2 year-old can break his nose. Did you know that? I didn't. He now has a lovely green bruise on the bridge of his nose, going into his eyes. It's not that noticeable in inside lighting but get him outside and it screams, "Look at me! My parents/brother/cat beat(s) me!" Poor guy. He's going to be "that" kid. You know, the one who is going to make it count when he hurts himself. I have a small little feeling this will not be the only time he breaks his nose in his lifetime. The circles under my eyes should be the disclaimer about this child.
Toser had his first ever field trip cancelled today because of the rain. He is now begging to go outside and paint on the porch. I feel like I should to be nice. I won't let him build a fort out of the couch cushions and he did have to miss out on something special today, but I don't feel like dealing with a wet, paint spattered 4 year-old. Who will yell at me 5 minutes after he comes in because I don't put his towel on him the right way or because I got the wrong, dry t-shirt. oy. My kids are determined to run me out of this house and seek sanity, wherever it may dwell.
I feel bad, complaining about my kids all the time. I do love them more than anything else in this world and I will kick anyone who says otherwise. It's only that I'm around them ALL the time and they are relentless in their need. And I still like to pretend I have a life outside of them so I get frustrated. I keep telling myself, "Today will be different. I won't let the whining and fighting get to me today. I will kiss them more and yell less." Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn't. I just pray they remember more of the fun times and not so much the times their mom was a crazy mess who needed a good kick in the pants and a reminder to cherish the little things. What I want to remember is how much I love their hugs and snuggles and how sweet they smell when they wake up from a nap.
P.S. Tater is sacred to death of granddaddy longlegs and it cracks me up to no end. If he goes outside and sees one, he hightails it (if that's not a southern expression, what is) back inside, whimpering about the "Daddy Wawegs." Maybe it's the way he says it or the shear terror on his little face but I melt and laugh at the same time. I think I'll stick around just to see what else they can come up with.
