William has a half day today and tomorrow. And no school on Friday. So there's that.
This morning I woke up with one of those headaches where you're not sure if you're dehydrated or just going through caffeine withdrawal. And then I had the internal debate...coffee or water? Coffee would provide the immediate relief I needed but water would be better for me.
In the end I gulped down a cup of coffee with a couple ibuprofen and chugged some water later. It worked.
I feel totally behind the 8 ball today with our weekend trip coming up.
I have mounds of laundry to do. And then someone, I won't name names, had the audacity to wet the bed last night. So now I have sheets to launder and a bed to make as well.
The snow plow just came by and instead of just leaving a wake of snow it knocked down the huge pile of snow boulders we had piled up on the boulevard. (You know you're a Minnesotan when you know what a snow boulder is.) Which means a simple shoveling won't do. I thought about standing out there for five minutes with all the babies and a sad look on my face hoping one of those men with the plow on the front of his truck would drive by and take pity and just take care of it for me. I would totally pay in beer. That really happened one year!
Katherine is in to EVERYTHING right now. Her favorites include but are not limited to: the plastic silverware, all the sippy cup parts, the wash clothes under the sink, the toilet water, the bathroom garbage, the full length mirror in my bedroom, my red high heels, her dresser drawers and all the clothes within, the books in the bookcase and climbing on the couch and giving me a hug but only when I'm holding a hot cup of coffee because I'm having caffeine withdrawals.
Lucy is not napping at all for me anymore. And right now I can hear her banging around in her room. I'm sure she has every bow in her hair and every string of beads strung around her neck. She emerges from her "rest" time every day looking like a bag lady.
At 3:00 I'm going to let William and Lucy out of their rest spots. But what they don't know is that I'm going to usher them to the basement to clean up the bomb that's been residing there for the past five days. They're going to be so mad. Why must toy clean-up equate to pulling teeth without pain medication? The whining. The limp bodies. The cries for help. It's too much! She/He's not helping! I didn't do that! Why can't everyone have the love and appreciation of a clean and organized play space as much as I do?
In the end I'll probably bribe them with some sort of snack. Or threaten to throw all their toys away. And then I'll have guilt. But not really.
Tomorrow is my birthday and I'm oddly a little stressed about it. My last two birthdays have been total busts. Two years ago I was in the depths of morning sickness having just found out I was pregnant with Katherine. And last year, of course, was dubbed the Worst Birthday Ever having woken up to two puking kids.
So now when my birthday comes around I kind of get this little pit in my stomach. I really want it to be a fun little day with my family but I'm just so nervous I'm going to end up hugely disappointed and feeling hugely disappointed will make me feel guilty about being so selfish about wanting to have a special birthday and around and around we go.
I'm nursing Bobby as I type this with one hand. He just cashed out. I'm really starting to love this little boy. Not that I didn't before, of course. But you know what I mean. It starts out so hard and you're just not sure. And then, like a fine wine, it just gets better as they age. Until they turn two-and-a-half when things get questionable again. Oh I kid!
This morning I woke up with one of those headaches where you're not sure if you're dehydrated or just going through caffeine withdrawal. And then I had the internal debate...coffee or water? Coffee would provide the immediate relief I needed but water would be better for me.
In the end I gulped down a cup of coffee with a couple ibuprofen and chugged some water later. It worked.
I feel totally behind the 8 ball today with our weekend trip coming up.
I have mounds of laundry to do. And then someone, I won't name names, had the audacity to wet the bed last night. So now I have sheets to launder and a bed to make as well.
The snow plow just came by and instead of just leaving a wake of snow it knocked down the huge pile of snow boulders we had piled up on the boulevard. (You know you're a Minnesotan when you know what a snow boulder is.) Which means a simple shoveling won't do. I thought about standing out there for five minutes with all the babies and a sad look on my face hoping one of those men with the plow on the front of his truck would drive by and take pity and just take care of it for me. I would totally pay in beer. That really happened one year!
Katherine is in to EVERYTHING right now. Her favorites include but are not limited to: the plastic silverware, all the sippy cup parts, the wash clothes under the sink, the toilet water, the bathroom garbage, the full length mirror in my bedroom, my red high heels, her dresser drawers and all the clothes within, the books in the bookcase and climbing on the couch and giving me a hug but only when I'm holding a hot cup of coffee because I'm having caffeine withdrawals.
Lucy is not napping at all for me anymore. And right now I can hear her banging around in her room. I'm sure she has every bow in her hair and every string of beads strung around her neck. She emerges from her "rest" time every day looking like a bag lady.
At 3:00 I'm going to let William and Lucy out of their rest spots. But what they don't know is that I'm going to usher them to the basement to clean up the bomb that's been residing there for the past five days. They're going to be so mad. Why must toy clean-up equate to pulling teeth without pain medication? The whining. The limp bodies. The cries for help. It's too much! She/He's not helping! I didn't do that! Why can't everyone have the love and appreciation of a clean and organized play space as much as I do?
In the end I'll probably bribe them with some sort of snack. Or threaten to throw all their toys away. And then I'll have guilt. But not really.
Tomorrow is my birthday and I'm oddly a little stressed about it. My last two birthdays have been total busts. Two years ago I was in the depths of morning sickness having just found out I was pregnant with Katherine. And last year, of course, was dubbed the Worst Birthday Ever having woken up to two puking kids.
So now when my birthday comes around I kind of get this little pit in my stomach. I really want it to be a fun little day with my family but I'm just so nervous I'm going to end up hugely disappointed and feeling hugely disappointed will make me feel guilty about being so selfish about wanting to have a special birthday and around and around we go.
I'm nursing Bobby as I type this with one hand. He just cashed out. I'm really starting to love this little boy. Not that I didn't before, of course. But you know what I mean. It starts out so hard and you're just not sure. And then, like a fine wine, it just gets better as they age. Until they turn two-and-a-half when things get questionable again. Oh I kid!
A neighbor friend of mine (who also has four children) sent me this video the other day and Brian and I had tears we were laughing so hard. I'm not sure what it means that we could relate to almost every joke he made. We've definitely entered some sort of club by having these four kids.
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