My morning

I often get distracted. Writers block. Whatever.

I know there are things I should post for my posterity: pictures, our adventures, activities, etc. But then when I go to sit down, I get thoroughly unmotivated. I only get on the computer when my kids are sleeping. It's my thing. So, off to nap, the bambinos went. And I head to my computer.

And nothing.

This has happened all week. I started jogging down our Labor Day weekend activities. Maybe our trips we went on this summer...finally? Maybe our (sixth. yikes.) miscarriage we had over this "labor day" weekend---ironic? Or what a good swimmer J has become? Or about Hugh's name, and how it came to pass?

But nothing sticks.

Today was like every other day. The boys were sleeping, and I stared at my computer screen. This is my time, I want to make the best of it. My blank screen was interruped by J kicking the door to his bedroom. "Mama Mia! Mama Mia!" (It's my new name as of late. Totally weird, I agree) "Let J Mia out! Let J Mia out!" I couldn't help but laugh, because he was not trying to be funny, in any way. That's just the sort of things that come out of his mouth. Eventually, it was quiet.

Then I heard Hugh.

And I knew J had climbed into bed with his brother... as usual.

I just sat outside their door, listening to them both. Hugh was laughing and J was talking up a storm. I thought about so many things in those moments. Thoughts precious to me; oh how I love my boys. After eves dropping on them, reality brought me down from the clouds, as Hugh started crying---he was tired, after all. I went in and retrieved bambino dos, and walked him the crib downstairs (long story...), and then went back upstairs. I told J to stay in his bed, and go to sleep.

Then the orchestra began.

Hugh was crying downstairs

J was crying upstairs.

Nap time was over.

And it hadn't even begun!!

So, we did any senseable thing, and made raspberry cobbler.

J loves helping me in the kitchen, yelling, "Let me see! Let me see!" whenever I obstruct his view. Every once in a while, Hugh got a raspberry, or cracker thrown his direction---whatever his older brother saw fit. And then we were done. J climbed up onto our bookshelf/toyshelf after I already gave him one final warning that he would be sent to his room if he went up again.

He is smart.

And climbed up again.

As I was walking up to his room for time out, he said, "I was not ON the shelf. I was SITTING on it! Not ON it. Just SITTING!"

I did not support his logic.

As I walked around the house picking up this-and-that,while J yelled even more illogical statements from his room, the younger one followed me around biting any of my exposed skin within his grasp. He thinks that milk just comes out of my pores, apparently. Not so. I decided to feed him. As I held him in my arms, he traced my face with his fat fingers, as usual, and let me stare into his deep mis-colored eyes.

I am so in love.

Once he was done, he plopped his thumb into his mouth, right where it belongs, and closed his eyes.

It was nap time.

J ran and hid from me when he heard me coming up the stairs with his sleeping brother. "No bedtime Mama. No, please. No thank you. No pleeeeeeeease." By this time, it was time for them both to up from their naps, and I had no intentions on putting them both down; however, Hugh was passed out in my arms. As soon as I opened the door to their room, I B-lined it straight to the crib, hoping that J's pleas would not wake up his sleeping brother.

Safe.

Once the baby was sleeping, I swept up the brother. I whispered into his ear, "...You are my sunshine..." and then left it at that. He melted into my arms and said, "More singing Mama. More sing, please."

Which never happens.

So, I sang to him.

And he fell asleep in my arms.

I cuddled him in his bed for a moment. I let my wander, again.

The storm was made calm... in an instant. Just like that.

Heavenly Father knows how to touch my heart.

Through all the chaos, tears, broken hearts, and life plans unravelled, I still know he loves me.

I have been blessed.

And I have my two boys.

And I AM grateful.