Day after Christmas, 2014

I'm not sure if anyone reads this ol' thing anymore, but hopefully this post will serve as a reminder to myself. We just had the most beautiful Christmas. Daniel was old enough to be really excited about the lights and decorations and the candy canes (his only Christmas wish was that Santa would bring him a candy cane). We had a Secret Santa who bought us all thoughtful gifts and gift cards for a date night out. We delivered treats and visited with so many friends. We spent Christmas night at my grandma's house where we all received meaningful gifts. Mom made me a beautiful maternity apron out of materials from my childhood. Pieces of cloth from a puppet theater we used to love, old pillows and beloved tablecloths. It's beautiful. Grandma gave Jesse Grandpa's antique pedometer and one of his first watches. We gave her a photo book of pictures of her with the kids and Grandpa. There were tears, good food, laughs--all the things I've always hoped Christmas would bring.
    And yet, here I sit at 12:56 in the morning looking around at a houseful of chaos. And I'm feeling guilty for not being a better housekeeper. How silly is that? I'm sick, pregnant, and trying to keep up with two toddlers. Why is it so hard for us to just hold onto those precious little moments that we know mean so much more than a clean house?
     Jesse once forced me to describe the things I saw around me when I was feeling this way. So here's what I see. My husband, asleep next to me on the couch (the guy who let me take a nap and bought me pudding and cleaned the kitchen). A beautiful Christmas tree. A figurine of a mother and her two kids that reminded Jesse of me. Paintings if our kids. A new Raggedy Ann doll for Gracie from my mom. Clean clothes to be folded. Tea Jesse bought for my throat. Books. The gingerbread house we made with my grandma. Remnants of dinner brought over by a sweet friend. The table Jesse made. The other table Jesse made. The scarf Danny picked out for Daddy. Get it yet? Yes, there are also bills in a pile, clutter, bathrooms that could use a wash down. But I hope I look back and don't remember that stuff. After all, I don't think Grace and Danny will.

Lessons Almost Learned

So instead of trying to catch up from my 9-month blogging hiatus or filling this post with pictures of adorable babies, I thought I'd return to the blogging world by reviewing a few things I've learned being the mother of two little people.

1. What's that smell? It's poop. But I just changed both kids--no it's poop. Maybe it's the garbage? Nope--poop. Not the baby? Then it's toddler poop. Ok, ok, you've learned that lesson and this time it's really something else? Poop. It's poop! If it's not in the diaper, then it's somewhere else, but it's poop.

2. Baby spit is just little human water. It will get in your mouth, and that's ok. Go ahead and finish that spoonful of oatmeal for her. Kiss the slobberchin. Drool on your clothes? It'll dry and no one will know. Heck, those jeans have to last you for at least another week (see number 3). Same goes for baby pee, though I can't give a solid endorsement for its consumption. Try to avoid.

3. When people talk about doing more laundry when you have kids, they don't mean just baby clothes. It's YOUR clothes. You, with the slug trails on your arms. To say nothing of vomit. Let's just not.

4. It's ok to pray for Lightning McQueen. He's your son's best friend, and he's got a road to finish.