that's just not me

i'm not the fun one. i'm just not. i do not talk in accents just to make you laugh. i do not make animal crackers march into your mouth. i do not put on puppet shows or do magic tricks with matchbox cars. i do not pretend the food went into my nose and then i will not pretend to blow it out into my hand again. i do not think it's funny when you fart. or when i fart.

i feed you. well. i keep you clean. i keep your things clean. i teach you how to keep yourself and your things clean. i cut your grapes and pour your milk and let you go on the freezer and get your own ice cubes. i cut your nails and check your temp and read and read and read. i hug and kiss and bandage and snuggle.

i'm not the fun one, but i'm essential, so you're stuck with me.

i thought this was over

11pm, 1:30am, 3am, 4am, 4:30am, 6:30am. those pretty numbers are all of the times i got to see one - or more - of my children last night. my main culprit was jonah - that bear of a 2 year old got his nose in a twist about something, because that little guy was inconsolable. walking/swaying? nope. change diaper? nope. drink of water? nope. can i change your pj's? no way. monkey boy jumped on the bandwagon, was too cute to say no to, and got some water too.

then the anxiety hit my little lady and she came in to our room to worry about something happening today. not a big deal, but it's not the norm for her, so she worries. to the extreme.

i'm tired.

but i'm not super grumpy. i do tend towards the super grumpy, i have to say, but there's something about these problems that you just want to solve for your children that is just heartbreaking. my anger turns to sadness when i have a hot, wet, crying 2 year old in my arms who just really does want to sleep.

but i am tired. no joke.