bad attitude, be gone.

I have a bad attitude. I do. It's true. My husband even told me so.

Here's my justification. . .

I'm tired. My eyes hurt. My hair hasn't been washed and styled in days. I eat cold dinners at the table by myself most evenings. I can't hear well out of my left ear because that's the ear Tilly usually is crying into. I wake up with headaches. I'm still hormonal. I don't fit into any pair of pants in this house. There is spit up on most of my shirts and I leak through at least 2 of them a day. I travel in circles all day cleaning up messes - but can't seem to get anything clean. It's a major accomplishment to have everyone fed and in bed before 8 p.m. . . I feel like Supermom when they are actually bathed, too. I'm jealous of my husband for leaving the house; even though it's only ever for work. There are stretches that I don't leave the house at all.

That's all I'm willing to admit at the moment. It's enough. And it's all completely normal for a mom of a newborn and a toddler, I know. I could write a similar paragraph for Bill, too. We're in the same boat. The only thing I do that he doesn't is feed the baby. It's not a "poor me" mantra. But it's given me a bad attitude.

Yesterday he said to me. . .in that way that he's able to give me a zinger without me realizing until he's left the room. . ."you know, Erika. . .cranky moms usually mean cranky kids." Okay Bill. . .point taken. I'm sure cranky moms mean cranky husbands, too. . .but he didn't have to say that part.

Logically, I know why this is happening. It happened with Cole, too. Our schedule has changed. Our lives have changed. There's no routine yet and we're all in this limbo waiting for life to settle down. It's unnerving. It's easy to get negative. It's easy to miss the "old days."

But there's so much that's amazing around here right now, too.

A few nights ago, while Bill was working, I went to my folks house because I couldn't take both kids for an entire evening by myself. I knew it'd end up being a night of sticking Cole in front of the TV and staring at the clock counting down to bedtime. And that was if everything went well and I didn't get frustrated with him for stuffing his dinner in the couch or taking his diaper off and running around the house. So we left. Which was scary because I hadn't taken a trip like that with both kids alone. . .and especially not at night. But it was necessary.

My folks really gave me the break I needed. Besides. . .Cole is so much better behaved with others. . . so my plan worked. And on the way home, in the dark, in the car, on some lonely road out in Ashby or Townsend or something. . . I looked in my rear view mirror at the two of them. . .peacefully sleeping in the backseat. And it really hit me. . .

. . .they are the most amazing thing I'll ever do with my life. Ever. And I'm so lucky.

And for the rest of the ride home I took a personal inventory of my attitude. Of the tit-for-tat scoreboard I've been keeping in my head of things Bill gets to do that feel human. . .and things that I don't. Of how many dishes he's done and how many diapers I've changed. And it didn't matter. In fact, it was really foolish. It's all a flash in the pan compared to the importance of being their mom.

I thought about how cute Cole is when he brings me a "dish" he's made for me in his kitchen. Or the way he says "uh oh" when he's spilled something horribly messy. Or Tilly when she smiles and I can tell she sees me. I thought about how calm I get when I'm folding a load of their laundry. . .stacking little socks and shirts neatly into piles and thinking about how big they've gotten. And trying to make dinner with Cole wrapped around my leg, kissing my knee.

I'm cleaning up my act. No one wants to be around someone with an attitude like that. And Cole and Till don't have a choice. I'm so fortunate to have the family I do and in just a short time all of this will be forgotten. And with it, I don't want moments like I had driving home that night gone too.

So, he's right. Again. And I've put it in writing. The grass is always greener, they say. But I suppose the real secret is to recognize just how green yours is, too. And now. . .for some pictures.

Part of the "plop Cole in front of the TV" week. . .he's literally inches from the screen watching his Curious George Movie. . .

And playing dress up with Till:

It's a cute hat. . but she sure doesn't like it!