As I put their toys away in the garage after our late-afternoon walk to 'Bucks (mmm...hot caramel apple cider)...I walk into the backyard to find them covering eachother in wet woodchips...and Jonathan, eating them. That's right. As he sees me he starts to whine, realizing how truly non-delicious they are....and then, as I start wiping them off his face, he ralphs. Ever think you'd see your kid throwing up woodchips?
Me neither.
So, off went his clothes, covered in nastiness...and Benjamin's too, as he'd managed to cover himself in enough wet woodchip-ness that his hair was literally thick with it.
Clothes in the washer, I made them both hang their heads out of the back door onto the deck and spastically ran my hands through their hair.
And then?
Then I cut them loose in their diapers and went for the camera.
I mean really...what else can you do in a situation like this?
When Brian and I first talked about kids (oh, on our third or fourth date...lol) I remember saying..."I absolutely want to stay home with them, if I can."
I look back on this and laugh because I KNOW I was picturing a far different picture. For one, I was totally picturing a girl (at least one) in the mix. I was also picturing something a bit more idyllic and serene...and far less rambunctious and messy. I never pictured purple crayon all over my red sofas.
But the BEST news here is that if I could start over and script my life any other way, I'd change nothing. Not even the money being spent on vodka and wine each week...:)
Here's to life with the Richards' boys.
Sorry bout your coffee pot last Saturday, Bergsmas.:)
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