My new mantra: I Will Survive. I take comfort in the knowledge that, as far as I know, no one has ever met their demise from being left alone caring for three very young, very needy children. But it was a sad sight yesterday morning when Andy returned to work. He was having to try to make his way out of the door with a screaming, crying, hysterical blue eyed girl clinging to his legs begging "Daddy, please don't go!!" It didn't work. He couldn't shake me off his leg and run to the car fast enough. As the car peeled out of the driveway, William and Catherine were just standing there staring at me as I pulled myself up off the floor, brushed myself off and started repeating over and over, I will survive.
Crazy as it sounds, I'm actually enjoying the 3 am feedings. Because it's just me and Stuart. No one crawling all over us, poking him in the face, trying to fit into my already crowded lap, screaming and fighting, and begging for attention. It's quiet. And peaceful. And sweet. Moments like that are rare these days.
I do realize though that one day my house will be straight again, there won't be toys scattered everywhere and the echoes of shrieking and laughing filling the air, and there won't be anyone trying to climb in my lap. And the only one crying will be me. Because all of this will be long gone.
Somehow reminding myself of that makes it easier to survive this madness.
Will post pictures soon.
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