Morning

Regular. Laundry going. Dishwasher too. One baby asleep (yes!) one awake. About to be bathed before they call child services. He has lint stuck in between each finger, smells homeless. I will miss these mornings as they are about to end. Tomorrow exactly. Monday morning I will be rushing out the door. Leaving my two bundles of joy/maniacs in another woman's hands. It will be hard. And it will be good. And, like with all separations, I will appreciate and love them even more at the end of each break. And like with all changes, I will get used to it. But I will loathe the pumping. And milk schlepping. Off to bathe Thing 1.