i’m sitting at the computer and touched my leg and realized that i just showered and shaved the same leg twice.
I am not great at a lot of things. I am bad at organization. At keeping plants alive. At resolutions. At confrontation. At math. Especially math.
But I need you to know that I am excellent at loving you. I’m so good at it, I should win a shiny award.
Everyday, even when you’re frustrating or crying too dramatically over nothing (Dane) or asking me for the eighth time for a Flintstone vitamin and crying when I say no because you’ve already had your allotted amount (Cassady), or not letting me put you down or pry you off the milk supply (whit), I DELIGHT in you all.
Dane, I think you’re so smart and funny. I love hearing you pretend. I love when you tell me about your day. I love when you hug me because it’s so genuine. I love your eyes with their long incredible lashes. I love your dance moves and enthusiasm for everything. You are SO loving towards your brothers.
Cassady, I love your one of a kind sense of humor. Already at only 2 3/4 years of age you are so…Cassady. I could listen to you talk all day. Each day brings a new word or story or in your case, a new facial expression. You are so entertaining. You are our silliest boy. and just tonight at double mountain, you wove an intricate tale about when you were “a baby whale”. It was amazing. I was sitting across the table trying so hard to read your lips because I didn’t want to miss any of it.
And baby whit, you are only 9 weeks old but I can’t imagine our life without you. You have come alive these last few weeks, giving smiles and coos and I swear I don’t get anything done because how can I not stare at your beautiful face all day long?
Each day, amidst the cacophony of you three kids, underneath the chaos and hustle bustle of it all, I am more happy than I ever dared dream.
Because of you.
sunday morning i braved the single-parentedness and took all three to the fly-in at our local airplane and auto museum.
i’m glad i did even though, let’s be honest, i did it for the pancake breakfast. and let’s be honest, that shit was nasty. and furthermore, i have to carry whit in the bjorn wherever i go and cutting up rubbery pancakes is no easy task and why the hell when i asked for cream and sugar, the lady said “everything you could need is on the table, we tried to make it like your home” while pointing to a paper plate full of cream and sugar. lady, i’m not the queen of england but powder packets is NOT cream. you have to seriously use 18 of them to achieve the shakira skin hue that i strive for.
aaaaanyway. the kids were overjoyed to be there. bouncing from plane to plane, dane would say, “these are WARRIOR planes!!!” i’m pretty happy my kid doesn’t know that “war” is the right word.
there was an amazing play room where we spent the bulk of the morning. then cassady pooped and i tried to ignore it because i figured the room is a freaking airplane hangar and smells don’t really have a chance to smother one in a place of that size. then i noticed cassady holding his bottom with a funny look on his face…he was looking at his own poo. on the ground. somehow it had escaped from his diaper like a “warrior” prisoner.
after handing my baby to a stranger, i whisked him away to clean up. the shorts were soiled and of course, being me, i didn’t have a backup pair.
the fast and the pantsless.
this was pre-poop.
dane loved the submarine. like really really loved it.
i told him to make a serious face because i like it when he tries not to smile. it makes me giggle.
it was a great morning despite the poop and the coffee.
Dane came home from the second day of kindergarten and said, “I really love Mrs. Perkins. She’s so awesome. I nearly HUGGED her when we were saying goodbye!”