Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Stream of Consciousness

Ok, y'all. Welcome to my new stream of conscienceness blog. Because if I don't do it this way, it will be Christmas before I blog again. Maybe.

Right now I'm sitting at the dinner table. I'm nursing Ford, who is not feeling too hot after his 2-month shots today (no matter that he is nearly 3-months old), and am ignoring Lorelei, who just threw her dirty napkin at me. Now she is touching her hair. Now she says she needs to go poop. The girl really knows how to get my attention. I should probably be conversing with my children over dinner, but I'm all conversed out (at least with people four-years old and under). We started dinner without Chet because we were all starving and I hadn't heard from him yet. Actually, I never have any idea when Chet will be home from work. Since he works at the Pentagon he has to surrender his cell phone at work, and I don't usually hear from him until he's out of the building.

This just in: Chet just texted saying he caught the 6:00 pm bus. He should be home in approximately 16 minutes. For those of you familiar with the horrendous traffic in the northern Virginia/DC area, a 16-minute commute to and from work is practically a miracle. More on that in another post.

I will say though that Chet's work schedule hasn't been unmanageable. He's usually home around 6, give or take half an hour. And thank goodness deployments are not in the mix this duty station. Perhaps I'm also becoming a mothering expert. Perhaps...not.

Adding Ford, Baby #3, to the mix wasn't too hard. In fact, I thought it was harder adding Baby #2 (Lorelei, the napkin-throwing, hair-touching pooper) to our family, and learning how to deal with the needs of two very small people. It seemed like someone was always unhappy, waiting their turn, and it was my job to simply manage the chaos, creating as little collateral damage as possible. (Who knew that my stint as a Surface Warfare Officer would come in handy as a mother?) I say all of this only to point out that I am back in that stage again, managing the needs of three little admirals who are all vying for my attention (two of whom still need lots of help from Mama). At least it's not as stressful/terrifying as it was the first time, because now I know that everyone will come out of this stage unscathed (even if they have to scream in their bouncy seat for 20 minutes while I clean Parmesan cheese off the floor before it get tracked through the rest of the house).

And on that note, here are some unrelated pictures:

Lorelei's looking rough with her hair plastered to her head. The dry weather here is not her friend. But she was really proud of this puzzle (I had to help her, because she was using impressive strength to make pieces fit together that shouldn't have.)

The boy is surrounded by pink.

Syd and her Bubby.

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