I'm not sure if I should call this happy.
This morning I was surprised by the gargantuan task of caring for our two children. Maybe it is better to say that I am noticing how easy it is to just have the baby. Jeep was at Grammie's house last night, and we had a passable night's sleep. There were no toddler calls from the back bedroom this morning, so an extra hour of time in bed came as a welcome surprise for the Daddy.
But this morning, instead of an ambitious run or project or breakfast, I have been doing . . . well, nothing. I made coffee, read the paper, and watched reruns of Lost, Season 1. Without the pressing needs of my all terrain boy, it is almost peaceful. Quiet. Pleasant. The kitchen is clean, the sky outside is grey, and nothing is going on. This change have pace has got me thinking about how difficult our life has become. Difficult is not the right word. Busy. Complicated. Harried? Is this our life for the next few years? Is there any peace?
We are fully in the throws of two under two. I asked for this, planned for it, and touted it with bravado. We will be lucky people if it never gets any harder than this. And I am sure that there are big paybacks down the road. I have taken comfort in one thought this week. A sibling is a gift that you give to your child which can last a lifetime, hopefully well after the parents are in the ground. That's got to be worth it, right? Right?
Do these two look like a handful to you?