I wake up as my husband shuffles out of bed and into the bathroom. Before he leaves he kisses my forehead, trying not to wake me even though I am awake. I go back to sleep.
I hear my 3 year-old leave his bedroom and go downstairs on his own to watch some TV by himself before the baby wakes up.
The baby wakes up. I can hear him on the monitor, not crying but cooing. This is the highlight of my day.
I get out of bed and head to the kitchen to make a bottle. The 3 year-old hears me and runs upstairs to me and demands candy. I tell him no. His bottom lip protrudes and he says in his sweetest voice, “pweeze?” I again tell him no. He stomps angrily behind me as I head to the baby’s room.
We both greet the baby and giggle when he smiles up at us. I pick up the baby and we both go to the rocking chair. As I feed him, the 3 year-old shakes rattles and squeaks squeaky toys in the baby’s face trying to get a reaction. The baby’s face starts to crumple. I explain to the 3 year-old that the baby is trying to eat and the noises are bothering him right now. The 3 year-old has a tantrum and makes the baby cry. I scold the 3 year-old and calm the baby. The baby resumes eating and the 3 year-old brings in a toy of his own and plays on the floor while the baby eats.
It’s time to change the morning diaper. The 3 year-old fetches a clean diaper and waits in great anticipation to see what horrors await us in the morning diaper. I change and clothe the baby and put him in his swing. The 3 year-old uses the bathroom all by himself, takes off his jammies and puts them in his hamper. Then I get him dressed and take him downstairs for his breakfast. He informs me what he would like and I fulfill his wish. He eats his gummy vitamins and enjoys his breakfast.
As the day wears on, I put the baby down for his first nap of the day. I quietly go to my bedroom and try to get a workout in while the toddler is keeping himself busy with toy cars or his play kitchen. Halfway through the workout he comes blazing into my room like a tornado. He is being noisy and I warn him to be quiet so as not to wake the baby. Tantrum. I go about my workout routine and all the while keep a constant eye on him. I yell at him for licking the cat. Tantrum. He finally gets into my bed and watches me workout quietly. When I am done, I kiss his temple and thank him for being good. I feed him lunch.
With the 3 year-old fed and happily playing in his room, I go to take a shower. As soon as I am naked, the baby starts crying. I put on a robe, make a bottle and feed the baby. I put him back in his crib and turn up the baby monitor so I can hear him while in the shower. He screams the whole time. I jump out of the shower, dress myself as fast as I can (which is not very fast since I was in such a big hurry I forgot to dry off) and go to the baby. I scoop him up and snuggle him until he is calm. We all play together in the family room until it is time to start dinner.
The baby is good enough to sit quietly in his swing. The 3 year-old insists on helping with dinner. The words, “Don’t touch that, it is VERY hot” are uttered several hundred times during the preparation of dinner.
The husband comes home. We eat dinner as a family.
It is time for the 3-year old to have a bath. The husband takes care of that while I clean up after dinner. When I am finished, I cuddle the baby for a bit before I read the 3 year-old a book before bed. I kiss him and snuggle him in and close the door. He is quiet all night. Not long after, I feed the baby again and put him down. He will sleep through the night. On this, I am lucky.
The husband and I watch a movie together. We go to bed. He showers and we snuggle in for the night.
In the middle of the night he kicks me in his sleep and gives me a charlie horse. I mumble to myself and briefly consider dumping cold water on his head. Instead I rub the sore spot and go back to sleep. A couple of hours later, he jerks in his sleep so hard that he dislodges a support under the bed causing a great *THUMP* to echo through the house. I jump approximately 15 feet in the air and both kids wake up. Again, I consider dumping water on the husband’s head but instead go to my kids. I soothe and kiss the 3 year-old and rock the baby. It takes about an hour to get them both back to sleep. I get back into bed and go back to sleep.
It’s the weekend and the 3-year old comes into our room and whispers in my face to wake up. He is scared of his father’s breathing mask for his sleep apnea. I roll over and gently elbow my husband in the ribs and inform him that his son would like to snuggle. The husband sits up, removes his mask, and puts the 3 year-old between the two of us. I turn on the TV and we watch for a bit before the baby wakes up. I make a bottle and bring the baby to bed. We all snuggle in bed for about 2 minutes before the hyper 3 year-old starts jumping up and down on the bed. The husband has fallen back asleep and the jumping does not wake him up. The 3 year-old sits on his face. He still doesn’t move. I get up with the baby and go downstairs.
Not long after, the husband comes downstairs with the 3 year-old.
“I slept great last night!” He says. “What’s for breakfast?”
If you ever wonder why I smile so much or why I am easy to laugh, now you know. I have a great life, charlie horses and all.