Waddle and Bite.

Some days... I mean, most days... are so hard... I don't know how women have done this for thousands upon thousands of years. There are days when I just don't think I can do it anymore. Of course, it ebbs and flows. Of course I am grateful. Of course I know I am giving my children my love and time, as much of it as I can, and I know it's good for them.

But holy cow.

My brain is not my own. My time is not my own. My sanity is not my own. It's getting drop kicked and right-hooked.

Most days I wait for the nanny by the front window. And she never comes. I stare at the wall asking it for help and it doesn't budge :) I call my mom or my sisters and ask them how THEY survived or are surviving. Sometimes I call friends and we dream of peace. Of quiet. Of a tranquil beach holiday. Of help.

But there's something we have in common, mothers. No matter how much we'd love for things to be easier, for there to be easy answers and formulas that worked day after day, for our children to handle things reasonably, we ALL wouldn't have it any other way. We all are so deeply, irrevocably in love with our babies.

Like, today. Tada walks around like she owns the place. It's all about her. She's constantly hitting and loves to sink her teeth DEEP into whatever part of my skin is available. And if it's not available, she goes through clothing. She does the funniest fake laugh, it kills me every time.

When I was trying to get some work done and Tada came up to me and screamed (her normal mode of communication, because hey, it works!) and tugged at my pants. She wanted more goldfish crackers in her snack cup. She still had her snuggly ducky jammies on and she was waddling around, with a dribble of drool on her bottom lip, messy hair, big blue/gray eyes. I couldn't HELP but smile. It came with no notice, like a reaction. An impulse.

I truly, truly love my life. With all the tears and frustration and ridiculousness, I love it.