Anyone who knows me well (or maybe even if you just know of me), knows that I have a problem. Before you go listing all of my issues, I will direct you to the one I am referring to: cleaning. I don't know where I got this urge to have all things clean. The inability to sit down until there are no dishes in the sink, no clothes in the dryer and no shoes laying on the hallway floor *cough*Jim*cough.* I don't want marks on my floors and I like the lines on the carpet that say, "I just vacuumed." I love when someone walks into my house and says, "It smells good in here" and I can say that's the dusting spray. So you see? It's a sickness. I've always wished I could let it go sometimes and enjoy, I don't know, let's say my children. Or my husband. Or perhaps life? That's not to say I would want to let it go totally. I have just always wanted a balance. To be OKAY with playing with my kids and not worrying about the state of the house at every given moment.
Well.
My friends, I have arrived.
It's called, "The Second Child."
There's just not time! And the addition of one family member somehow triples the amount of laundry to be done. When the kids go down for a nap, I realize that I need that break, too. If I'm blessed with a long nap from Henry (meaning more than one hour), then I get some stuff done. If not, I just try to go with it. That's not to say I don't think about it. That all those toys that got dumped on the floor or the dust that is sparkling on the coffee table with the morning sun or those fingerprints (thank you, Henry) that are perpetually on the windows and doors aren't bothering a small part of my anal-retentive brain. The good news is, whether I like it or not, it's happening b/c keeping up right now is impossible. The great news is, my husband couldn't care less. And let's be honest, when you get to see more of this:
Well.
My friends, I have arrived.
It's called, "The Second Child."
There's just not time! And the addition of one family member somehow triples the amount of laundry to be done. When the kids go down for a nap, I realize that I need that break, too. If I'm blessed with a long nap from Henry (meaning more than one hour), then I get some stuff done. If not, I just try to go with it. That's not to say I don't think about it. That all those toys that got dumped on the floor or the dust that is sparkling on the coffee table with the morning sun or those fingerprints (thank you, Henry) that are perpetually on the windows and doors aren't bothering a small part of my anal-retentive brain. The good news is, whether I like it or not, it's happening b/c keeping up right now is impossible. The great news is, my husband couldn't care less. And let's be honest, when you get to see more of this:
...it's all worth it. I like it when Henry smiles, too, but he doesn't always cooperate in the picture-taking department, as you might have noticed on my previous post.
Speaking of smiles, isn't it funny how different your children can be? Mr. Henry was soooo serious all the time and I tried in vain to get him to smile and then later on, laugh. It took forever! Of course, now we can't stop the incessant and goofy laughter that he produces. Wyatt, on the other hand, is a bundle of smiles and goos and I can't get enough! He just chatters away in the morning, probably talking about how crazy we all are in his own language.
Here he is mid-chatter:
Seriously? I'm so in love!
Henry kept yelling "NO PICTURES! THAT'S ENOUGH!" at me this morning so he will not get a showing on this blog post. I guess in the grand scheme of things, I have a lot of catching up to do when it come to taking pictures of Wyatt. Poor second child. We only have hundreds of pictures of you instead of thousands.
