Kids

Aren't my kids sweet? I have loved referring to them as "the kids" in plural form. It makes me feel old and mature. (Even though I am in shock that I will be turning 28 this year and should definitely stop the process of trying to feel older.)

Having plural children is a whole new ball game. This morning I put Nash back to bed at 5:45am and was only starting to lose consciousness again when at 6:00am Drew is pulling at my arm for a bowl of Lucky Charms. I keep trying to remind myself that someday I will get a good night's sleep again.

And even though it is crazier, I am enjoying this postpartum weirdness more than the last time. Postpartum weirdness is defined by me as major lack of sleep, up and down emotions, trying to find a new "normal", and choosing between a wardrobe of baggy maternity jeans or tight pre-maternity shorts that won't budge over my hips. I've had to resort to stretchy skirts.

Even though I haven't figured out what is the new "normal", I think we might have the sweetest little baby on our hands ever. He is laid back and cool as the other side of the pillow. Even when his sister is constantly in his face, kissing and mugging on him. I envy his patience with her.

I am enjoying it more because I am not pining for sleep-filled nights, clothes that fit me (well maybe I am), and for Nash to reach all the next little milestones. Because I am almost 100 percent certain all those things will eventually come. Just trying to ride this wave of crazy and enjoy "the kids" and life for what it is right now.

But Lucky Charms at 6:00am has got to stop.