A Girl is Entitled to Ramble

Last night I slept for a total of about 6 or 7 hours by taking three different naps of about 2-ish hours each.  I've been doing this for nearly 6 or 7 months... whenever it was that the shingles set in during pregnancy.  It makes a person a bit grumpy to go this long without quality sleep; I know it's part of motherhood and I accept that.   I also feel it is a teachable moment for me-- you know, help to explain our life around here so that my motherhood also remains honest.  (Thank you Jenny McCarthy!)  It's not that I have an uncooperative husband during the nighttime hours, either.  Simply put, Leila is a momma's girl... and to a large extent, so is master Gage.  Here's just a glimpse:

11:00 a.m. :  I've been awake since around 6:30; I'm finally taking a shower, sudsing the pee off my leg.  It's not my pee (or snot or vomit).  It rarely ever is.  During this 'refreshing' time, Austin is trying to convince Gage to get his teeth brushed.  He's supposed to be giving a ski lesson at this exact moment.  We just finished tag teaming Gage, who whizzed throughout the entire living room, and the mess.  He was asked just two minutes prior the 'accident' to sit on the potty.  (I've been trying to 'save' this carpet since the day it was installed.)  On this occasion there is only one injury resulting in blood; it's, of course, mine.  Gage's John Deere bucket tractor ("With sharp teeth") took a chomp out of Great Big Bumble Toe during our mad scoop and dash to the bathroom adventure--thus, pee down my leg.  Leila is crying in the exersaucer.  She has a burp.  I know this because I'm her mother.  Austin leaves for work-- a day in a Ski Nautique boat, a tractor, and having jolly conversations with patrons.   (Yes, I get bitter on days like today.)   Leila has to cry until I get dressed.  Scooped up, she and I start rocking.  Gage is playing with his tractors in his room.  She quits crying. I peer down to see if she's asleep and I see that my clean clothes are already covered in a burp... a polite way of describing vomit.  I have yet to brush my own teeth.  

11:47 :  I'm blogging about my rants because my generation knows the dangerous consequences of smoking-- a habit, I'm convinced, my mother and her sisters had/have because of days like this.  I don't need a bad habit, just a coping mechanism... My mom quit smoking when I went to college.  If that's a tale about when a mother is finally able to relax, I should probably buy into some Blogger.com stock.  Gage is playing outside in his underwear with a water gun and a hand puppet.  Leila is asleep... for now.

T-minus 24 hours until we leave for vacation.  In that time period Austin has ski rides to give, a hayride to drive at 2 and 7, among all the other Austin Lake duties of a Saturday, which today includes a Kurt James Family Appreciation day of bouncy rides that my kids will not appreciate unless I can get my teeth brushed.   Sometime,  I'm also supposed to get stuff packed.  By stuff, I mean my list is over a page long of items that this family, who collectively has colds to boot, needs in order to survive a hotel, a water park, an amusement park, food allergies, and teething. 

 In hindsight, I should have put a Chrysler Town and Country on our wedding registry.  Who cares about shower curtains and matching towels?