Mother, May I?

We have a new rule at our house. Nap time is in your own bed. Period. Because it goes something like this:

"Mommy, would I sleep with you?"

Translation: "Can I lay next to you, kick you in the stomach a few times, ask you to button, then unbutton my shirt cuffs, stand on your pillow, beg you repeatedly for vitamins, remove my socks, ask you to smell my feet, then tell you, 'I don't wanna sleep.' When you ask me to be still or leave the bed, I will go downstairs and try to sneak candy, kitchen knives, or some other contraband, and if you foil my plot, I will return to your bed with three airplanes and two Maters, and drive them all over your head."

And when you're cute, and you ask sweetly, Mommy always says, "yes". But those days are over. I love my babies, but they are done napping with me. At least until they quit doing tricks on my pillows.

One Day

One day, when I had plenty of other things to do (such as laundry, dishes, and dusting), I decided to start a blog. I used the excuse that I had a teething baby and a stomachache. It worked just long enough to get me through the setup and this initial post.

It remains to be seen how often or how well the blog will be maintained. But here I am: this is my blog. I do hope you enjoy whatever comes next. And now, if you'll excuse me, I have a few dishes to do.