Well folks, the bottom line is this: Kids make you nuts. Don't get me wrong--I love mine more than life itself and wouldn't trade them for my sanity, but still, they've made me a little crazy.
I think I've been coming to terms with this reality gradually. For instance, I've become a perpetually late person. I walk around in a constant state of exhaustion (can't remember the last time I had an uninterrupted night's sleep). I've become rather accustomed to appearing in public in oversized sweatshirts or, better yet, in spit-up covered, booger smeared everything. And my hair is turning white at an alarming rate.
Yes, these realities have been gradually descending upon me. However, tonight I had a particularly illuminating conversation with my brother, during which this harsh reality hit me squarely between the eyes.
Daniel and I were chatting about things in his life. He was returning from the store, they'd been to a mutual friend's vocal recital, their plans with other couples for the weekend. Then Dan said,
So, what are guys up to?" To which I had to respond:
"Oh, not too much. Just the same old same old."
By the end of the conversation, however, I'd recounted how McKay had dropped a toy car in the potty, had peed on the carpet and then asked me to vacuum it up, and had insisted that Santa Claus had stolen his Gingerbread House Book.
During the conversation I was repeatedly saying things like, "Brother doesn't like it when you scrub him with the bottle brush", "Put your underwear back on", and "Don't put Mommy's make-up on Benson's diaper".
I finally had to end the conversation when Benson was crawling out of his half-changed diaper and McKay was shouting, "Time for dinner, Mom".
Like I said, it's a crazy life and it's made me a little crazy but boy, it sure is funny. At least it was to Daniel tonight.
