My little monkey

An era has passed in my life as a Mother.

Oh, to be able to take back those nights when I threw Zesty in the arms of returning Daddy so I could go take a shower in peace.  Those were the days before I realized I could just stick him in his crib awake with toys instead of waiting for that magic moment of sleep.  I took for granted how easy and good it was to be able to gently place my son in his crib to nap.  The peace and the quiet - I should have bottled it up and put it away for a rainy day.

Because those days, they are O.VER.

A week or so ago, we were plagued with the stomach bug that has been going around our church for a month.  I thought we'd escaped, but no.  No, we did not.  I was working at church on a Saturday, the sweet sitter at home with the babies, and I got a text: "Pinky just threw up everywhere.  She's playing fine now."  Fifteen minutes later, "She threw up again."

nice.

I spent the next 48 hours washing bedding, changing diarrhea diapers, wrangling fresh clothes on Pinky. Sunday morning I woke up with that feeling of dread. You know the feeling.  I made it to church with all the kids (alone - Mr Lemon working) but only got through song service.  It's a good thing that I was sick enough to leave church though, because I no sooner got home than Zesty learned a new feeling, and a new word.  "DIAWWEA! DIAWWEA MOMMY!"

We went through a week's worth of diapers in 3 days.  It was bad.

But that Sunday, I was barely functioning, and yet somehow my Motherhood contract did not specify time off for sickness. I really need to get my lawyer on that.

I put Zesty down for a nap, and passed out on the couch.  A moment later ... pitter pitter pitter ... "I awake, Mommy! I get out of bed!"  Yes, he did.  He finally learned how to get in and out of his crib.  On the day that I was MOST needing him to be contained.

Since then we've been awakened before 8am every day with his pitter pitter pitter up the stairs and running full speed at the bed "I AWAKE MOMMY!  I AWAKE DADDY!"  

At least that's how loud it seems at just before the CRACK OF DAWN.

It appears that we're going to have to start employing the lock on the door so as to maintain our privacy.

Today I caught him red-handed.  He climbed out of his crib, shoved it over close to the changing table, scrambled back into his crib, and used it as a ladder to get on top of the changing table.  And then pulled the blind cords so that the blinds are at the top of the window.  He is too smart for his own good.

My daily mission is to just wear that little body out so when it is bedtime, he will be willing to have us "talk me a 'tory," sing Twinkle Twinkle, say his prayers, and go to sleep, blessed sleep.