In about 30 minutes, the activity will return. I'll grab the sweaty, sleeping baby and load him into the car. Simon will be full of stories, complaints, and anecdotes from his day. When we come back to the house, Daddy will be home to greet us.
Noise and chaos will be an understatement. The dinner will be started. The boys will scream while running up and down the hall. The bath water will run. Stories will be read.
But not now. For now, it is quiet.
Somebody stand up and shout praises to the Lord. Hallelujah.
Let's talk about our dinner for this week. Anybody interested in what we've been eating?
I thought you would say yes. (Like you even had a choice.)
Spaghetti and bloody eyeballs, mummy pizzas, and worms on a bun (with a side of bloody fruit jello). Please click and follow the links because, well, MY PICTURES SUCK.
Somebody stand up and give me praise. I am the best mother ever.
And here's a little photo shoot of Bennett being a PAIN in the ASS at dinnertime. Again, the pictures SUCK but you get a general idea of his crazy, OCD like behaviors. His cup was moved and all hell broke out.
Somebody stand up and get that kid some therapy.
Finally, to the people who said Bennett is looking grown up. POW! Check this out:
Still in the Hotsling (see also: no pants) because he was (again) being a PAIN in the ASS while I was trying to cook dinner. Solution? Shove his too big butt into the sling and continue on with life.
The baby is sleeping. The kid is at school.
It's time to be quiet now.