The Nugget at 9 months: "We've got this, Mama!"
Spork at 2 years: "It's kind of a lost cause, Mama."
Don't get me wrong, we waited and waited and prayed and pleaded for the opportunity to grow our family, and welcoming 2 babies in 2 months was definitely double the blessing. My complaint is not with the kids nor the energy drain that comes with them, but the disappointment in myself for not being able to "do it all".
But lately, when I find myself berating my poor 'ol brain for grabbing a wet and torn Maple leaf off the front sidewalk on the way to the car for Leaf Day, I remind myself to laugh and cut myself some slack. We all have seasons, and this is my season to be a bit spacey. Although to the naked eye, I've accomplished nothing in the last 24 hours, in my reality, I've wrestled a tantruming Spork into his car seat 2 times and successfully coaxed him in twice. I've made 3 meals, 2 snacks, and cleaned all the dishes. I've run and folded 2 loads of laundry, hand-washed swimsuits, and treated jam stains. I've wiped drippy noses with 13 tissues. I've doled out allergy and reflux meds on time. I've reminded toddlers to use their gentle hands, and I've walked the 6yo through non-violent problem-solving more times than I care to remember. I've bathed and re-dressed 3 children. I read Hi, Cat 17 times and Baby Faces 22 times. I've changed just under 2 dozen diapers and plunged 1 clogged toilet. I've scheduled a dishwasher repair and earned myself a free box of Larabars by calling customer service to report an unsealed wrapper (yes, I'm my mother's daughter). I've applied 2 ice packs to invisible yet apparently highly painful child injuries and I've pried 1 of those ice packs out of a teething baby's gator-like jaws.
The numbers of my day are trivial and small. But they're not insignificant.