I'm not leaving this blog. But I may be on leave this semester from it. By the time we get the babies to sleep and the place somewhat cleaned up, I just want to sit down with a glass of wine and watch TV. Even if that does happen, I usually only get 30 minutes to 1 hour of free time. And the often brain work required to do that is more than I have left.
And I don't really feel bad about that. I feel bad about a boatload of other things. But not about neglecting this too much. Except, I do feel bad about not documenting the twins' babyhood as well as I did Conor's. I know that happens moving from the first to subsequent children, but I still feel guilty.
Especially when I have such news to report as Bridget nearly walking and Christopher clearly saying "Daddy" (no Da Da) to Dave. Christopher has also started playing advanced Peek-a-boo with whatever linen he can find. And I just checked the previous blog entry and I did not mention that Bridge started to cruise about a month ago and can now stand up momentarily on her own. Christopher has just started creeping, in comparison, but he's still pretty darn proud of it.
Why here he is, creeping up on poor Patches instead of being in bed. Another difference in first vs. later children is that if one isn't ready for bed, I don't sit in the bedroom rocking for an hour until he goes to sleep. I'm sure we've doomed him or Bridget to a lifetime of horrible sleeping, but that's just too damn bad. I can't sit up there that long any more. And I don't believe it anyway.
As for the thousands of conversations I have in my head on this blog, the latest is what a witch I was on Easter! Yes! I won the award for worst mother of the year on Easter morning...BEFORE church! When we walked in and saw our friends, they kindly said "Happy Easter!" My blaring eyes, wild hair and frothing gave away my true meaning when I said "HAPPY EASTER TO YOU TOO!"
I'll simply provide the 15 minute highlight of dressing the twins in their very expensive outfits and then us all losing it. These highlights include: figuring out that their sailor outfits were not navy blue, but were black. Dressing infants! In black! For Easter!!
Then Christopher's button came off before I could even put his outfit on!! Did I mention EXPENSIVE? (And I don't mean "target" expensive)
Then we went down for pictures---one button gone be damned! I was going to take some pictures. Conor is running around the house in corduroys despite the hot weather. I sent him to change his clothes and he came back with a decent outfit and a tobaggon on his head he wouldn't take off. Fine.
"Sit down with the twins to get your picture taken."
"Fine!!! Then years from now when you look back and don't see yourself in these pictures I'll tell you that you refused to do it!!!!!" <--the peak of my bad motherness.
Seven bad pictures later, another button fell off of Christopher's EXPENSIVE BLACK EASTER OUTFIT. It only had 4 buttons! And 2 fell off in 10 minutes.
I believe that I was enraged at this point. All those images in my head of beautiful Easter pictures of my children in their matching Easter outfits (none black, by the way) as we go to church to have everyone oooh and aaaaaw of their cuteness is completely blown. I am so angry. So mad at the everybody. So achingly frustrated. And we're going to Church. On EASTER.
It got better. But it didn't start off that well. And now I've made my confession to you.
Time to relax. After I get Christopher back to bed and actually to sleep.