My house is full.
I have spent the last eight weeks with a happy heart because my house is full. Which is not to say there isn’t at least one point each day where both children are crying, because there is. On one recent day, both of them pooped within five minutes of one another and then Critter sacrificed a Tupperware bowl to the sink, which he Mourned Intensely for 10 minutes.
But Glitter is here. Critter is here. Marcus is here. I am here.
We are all here.
When people ask me how I am doing it with two I usually give some sort of bland answer about just putting one foot in front of the other which is partially true and the other half is that I just have no idea how we survive each day but somehow we do.
This is the hardest it will ever be, I continue to tell myself.
They are days full of More Crying Than I Would Prefer (from my children) but they are also days of wrestling and roaring like lions and running from the hugglesaurus, reading books, singing songs, a newborn who naps on me.
They are days when my husband and I sometimes spend one hour together at the end of the day, but usually not. It is exciting if we get to eat a reheated dinner together. We are tired. We are happy. We are sometimes frustrated. We are always surprised that we have two children now because how on Earth did that happen.
We are glad.