because boys sleeping mean I can continue to ramble

My afternoons have been transformed this last week and a half. The baby, who has never been a very scheduled baby, and whose lead I’ve always followed, has suddenly started to transition to one afternoon nap. HIS NAP AND THE TODDLER’S NAP OVERLAP. This is an incredible thing in the life of a mom. I mean, yesterday afternoon I actually cleaned my bathroom. Like, scrub the grout with a toothbrush clean. And today I mopped my floors. This is incredible because of how full my days feel and yet how little it feels I get done.

Oh, dear babies of mine, how I enjoy this busy, busy life you’ve given me. Just last night I sat at my mama’s kitchen table drinking coffee and eating Christmas cookies and talked of the mayhem you two energetic tots bring to my world. The broken decorations, the water from the humidifier tanks being emptied all over my living room floor, kitchen cupboards and the refrigerator being emptied in attempts to find food, vacuum filters and attachments being pulled apart and strewn all over, the bottom half of the tree looking absolutely dishevelled since it’s been the major battlefield this last week and a half and I’ve hastily redecorated it multiple times every single day.

You two have so much fun together, and although there are moments I want to tear my hair out since going down to the basement to change a load of laundry is enough time for you two to get into something, I wouldn’t ever trade your energy for the world.

Maybe someday you’ll enjoy sitting in one spot stacking blocks (do kids out there actually do such things?!), but for now I’ll enjoy the constant clamour of laughter, little feet running (even though they’re not supposed to) and little legs crawling (because why walk when you are so good at crawling), and the fact that half my day is spent redirecting you from trouble or helping you stay in one area and productively “play” (because yes, sometimes you have to actually teach a child how to play) or cleaning up from an incredible mess you made.

And in the midst of that you run/crawl back to me for a kiss or you reach up to me with your sticky baby hands because you want a hug and I’m reminded that I’m the most important person to you. I will gladly kiss your dirty face (because my boys just somehow get so dirty) and watch your newest trick and tell you how awesome you are (because that’s your favorite word) because you are my world. Sometimes it feels like a monotonous, small world, but when I pause and see you for who you really are — future men — it seems like a wondrous, overwhelming world.

And yeah, dear reader, you read that correctly. Our laundry is in the basement of our new home. It’s pretty much one of my least favorite things. I mean, for the basement of a house built in 1889, it’s pretty amazing, and the previous owners kept everything in impeccable condition, but can we just talk spiders? There will always be way too many spiders in basements. Moving our laundry up to the first floor is on our Someday list. It’ll happen. But for now I’ll keep going down and be grateful that at least I don’t have to go to a laundromat (because dirty, dirty boys).

I’m off to go fold laundry because I have a few more minutes of quiet before my Energy wakes and needs my attention.

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