*yawn yawn yawn*
*yaaa - awwn*
Oui, I think my jaw is going to break off. It always starts poppin' on me when I get to yawning too much.
Or when I chew gum. Not that you needed to know that, nor is it relevant to this post.
But now you know.
Okay then... anyway, I think Claira has hit a growth spurt and she's keeping me up a lot more at night. The pitter-patter of little feet and the rustling of diaper covered bums often come way too soon for me in the mornings.
But what can you do. I'm a diaper changing goddess, even in my sleep.
Some people walk in their sleep, others talk in their sleep. And still others change diapers in their sleep.
I think I deserve a badge, or at least a t-shirt for that kind of talent, don't you think?
The kids are learning to be quite independent. They've even gone so far as to simply help themselves to breakfast without even asking me.
Although catching them eating cold hot dogs this morning turned my stomach. Gross.
Thankfully I haven't had anymore emotional breakdowns since, you know *leaning close to the monitor to whisper* that one particular day, if you know what I mean, *clearing throat* but I have to confess to having a bit of a short fuse lately.
So I ate some chocolate, and read a few chick-flicky books. A good, clean, romantic story always puts me in a better mood.
What? I'm only female.
But then Hubby comes home and I tell him he needs to make-out with me.
Then he looks at me like I've lost my mind.
Which is strange, you'd think by now he'd know I had lost it a long time ago.
Still, all in all we've been surviving rather well on hot dogs, cereal, and macaroni and cheese, which my kids had three nights in a row last week. But that's okay, right? Right? RIGHT??
(btw Cassie, thanks again for dinner last night. It was a yummy!)
I've even gone out a couple times by myself with all five kids and honestly, it really didn't seem any harder than going out with four.
Of course, Claira isn't quite three weeks old yet, so there's still plenty of time for me to change my opinion.
I think the most frustrating part for me is I feel like... okay, I've had the baby, everything should be back to normal already!
I hate that my insides still hurt when I stand too long or work too hard, that I still feel exhausted and have a hard time getting out of bed before 8am. I hate that I still have 20 pounds to lose and that none of my clothes fit. (vanity people, pure and simply, and I'm not ashamed to admit it) I hate that I'm still hormonal and everybody knows it.
I don't have time to be tired for crying in the bucket! I've got things to do, places to go, kids to raise!
Where's the complaint box, I need to leave a note.
Still all is going well, even if my mind is a big puddle of mushy brain cells. Can't even blog properly.
Wait, what are we talking about? What's the point of this post? 'Cause I honestly have no clue.
Who's writing this stuff anyway?
Oh ya, me. Hmmm... sorry 'bout that.
At any rate, this gorgeous little girl is totally worth it.
Even my squishy stomach muscles thinks so.