Weekends are when I pull double duty all day. Josh is at church, so kid & work & house & cleaning & shopping fall to me.
Saturday usually consists of pancakes...by McDonald's. This means, I grab one of my plaids, toss it over a bra-less tank, and throw my grease ball hair up in a mom bun. We play hard until noon, and we crash. Peppered in that morning is me working between breaking up fights, switching over the laundry, finding Maddie's 89753th snack, and finding whatever toy is currently lost.
Oh, well. I lived. They'll live.
Waking up sucks. We don't move for a while after waking up. Life can be rough as a two-year-old.
If I have made it to bath time and the house is still standing, I count this a win. Emotions are fried and we have nothing left within us to keep our eyes from closing. We give in to the peace of a bath, followed by some milk & a cartoon.
Daddy is home. The world is set right. We shuffle kids to beds, and enjoy the quiet before we drift off.
Drift off...repeat...
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