When you’re up at night for the fourth time, things get weird.
Your house suddenly looks different.
You question your furniture choice and why you didn’t pay a higher lot premium so your neighbors’ houses weren’t breathing on you.
There are different sounds outside, some of which are from teenagers who are voluntarily up at this hour. You remember when you used to be fun…but was that even fun? Being up until 4AM? Was that fun?
And, even more confusing: Food Network starts asking you if your sunspots are bothering you.
Infomercials suck you in and start speaking to your heart. I was just going to ditch Netflix to see if Beat Bobby Flay was on, but now I need serum and regret going to school in Hawaii.
I’m just about to head into another night up with Shayne, but before I start looking for the air fryer infomercial again, I wanted to post a little life update.
Our weekly recap:
This third time around, Brian and I have finally found our mojo when it comes to running a semi-functioning household with a semi-functioning wife/newborn. I take care of the baby, Brian takes (really good) care of me (I’m somehow not great at that), and we tag team the boys. Sometimes they run wild, but we’re all safe, fed, and kind of dressed. Well, like, kind of. Don’t come over.
May I reiterate that my husband is a superhuman freak of matrimonial nature and is capable of everything? Cleaning, laundry, bedtime routine, grabbing groceries, all of it. It makes me feel both lucky and kind of incompetent because I can’t pull it together for a solid month or two or ever after babies.
A major highlight of this last little bit was Gus explaining to Roscoe that his little sister’s anatomy is different because “she has a bum in the front.” Diaper changes are a BIG deal at our house. My boys gather around to see the umbilical cord, yellow poo, and an occasional blow out. They’re disgusted and enthralled and won’t miss it.
I left my house for the first time in a week! Haha Groceries called. An elderly man at the grocery store scolded me for, and I quote, “being a bad mom,” which I’m pretty sure was for letting Roscoe eat a doughnut as I shopped, although there probably could have been other reasons. I smiled and agreed with him because, what?, and also I was late for preschool pickup.
(Another elderly guy stopped me as I was literally running by him to wonder why there aren’t more sugar free Popsicle options. I wanted to point out that he may have better luck if he wasn’t looking at packages with Minions and Ninja Turtles on them, but, preschool. I smiled and agreed again.)
Is this what I have to look forward to in fifty years?
Shayne and I traded in our hospital bracelets for other matching bracelets.
My boys constantly looking for little sister. Roscoe calls her “Sweethaaat! Sweetie!”
I was so antsy to get Shayne home from the hospital to just snuggle. That’s all I imagined: snuggling. In reality, I DO do that…just while simultaneously snuggling and whisper-yelling at a child that the shower drain is not a potty, please don’t bring the pot of ladybugs in the house anymore, wait, that’s my nice pot from the kitchen, again, we’ve talked about this, etc.
Currently, there are a LOT of pots being used for bug houses.
I plan to buy a new set at Home Goods soon.
…unless they’re on QVC tonight.