click It all started when I went back to work when my first daughter, Gabby, was 7 months old. She had never been away from me and was so attached that I did my best to NOT walk the 200 steps from my work to the daycare to make sure she was OK. It was good for her to not be ripped from my arms so often every day, and while I didn’t enjoy it, it was the right thing to do.
http://email@example.com Head to your nearest Target between the hours of 4-5:00 on a weeknight and you’ll see it: mini vans and SUVs line the rows in the parking lot. Mothers and children clog the aisles, everyone trying to get a tiny taste of sanity during the witching hour before daddy gets home from work.
If you’re anything like me, you press “snooze” on your alarm one (or three) too many times in the morning. In my attempts to squeeze in just a few more precious moments of sleep, I ultimately end up paying for it with rushing around the house trying to get everyone ready for their days. Our kids wake up http://votebenfrederick.com/page/2/ hangry, Marleigh is not a fan of wearing anything but pajamas (who can blame her?), and if you peeked into our windows on any given weekday between 6:15-7:00 AM, you would think you were watching an episode of WWE as we try to keep Henry still for his diaper change. Is it just me, or do kids have an incredible skill of sensing urgency and resisting it at any cost? We have spent many-a-mornings in a mad dash to the front door – only to ultimately lose the race against time because of one thing: the double layered winter coat.
Next month around this time, I will become a first-time mom to a baby girl. I am beyond excited to start this new chapter with my husband, and I’ve spent most days of the past almost nine months feeling immensely grateful. We’ve had a lot of fun brainstorming names, decorating the nursery, and imagining life with a tiny human who looks a little bit like both of us. All the good things about being pregnant, I’ve indulged in.
As I sit here typing, my son is loudly protesting and Taratabong is playing in the background, failing at distracting him from the fact that his graham cracker is gone. There are Cheerios, blocks, and princess high heels strewn about the living room floor. My hair is a mess (I haven’t brushed it in three days) and I still have my pajamas on. My Keurig has been working double-duty all morning and my to-do list is somehow growing rather than shrinking, even though I’ve been working for four hours already today.