Not every day is a good day. Some days I get up on the wrong side of the bed (oh, I mean off the mattress in the Bean's room where I have been since 2 a.m.). I am cranky and so are the boys. I get nothing done, I am hot and tired and thinking that the cycle of feeds and aching feet and back will never end. I get left alone with babies that refuse to nap and when they finally go down it is not at the same time. Husband comes home late and also had a bad day. There is nothing to eat in the kitchen. I watch everyone else go about their business and think about how I will never be first again in my life. The boys go schizo after a few minutes of the most fun family time we've ever had and we cannot get them to stop (babies are more unpredictable than crack heads sometimes, I swear.) We get them to sleep (until 11 at least) and I hop on here to write because I have to let it out in some forum. It has just been a bad day. Lest you think we are all smiles and light here in the Bean household, I have now dispelled the myth. Sorry, no pictures of this day, I'd rather just forget it anyway. I think I'll go knit now. Even though my hands hurt (Okay, enough, Amiee). Bye.
I just thought about the cuteness of the boys in those previous pictures and I realized Mamas are as schizo as the babies they love. Part and parcel of this whole thing, eh?