Overheard at My House Lately

In case you've been wondering why I don't blog more often, it's because at 27 (I think) weeks pregnant and with a three year old and two year old at home, my world is more disjointed and humorous than it is blog-worthy. And no, I'm not totally sure "how pregnant" I am without consulting a calendar. I know the number changes on Sundays, but I can never quite remember whether the number in my head was from last week, or the one coming up. So, ballpark, I'm at the beginning of the third trimester, and hoping this baby makes a precocious appearance well before his due date of June 15.

As an example of the typical conversations at our house, the following transpired one morning when M came over for snuggle time before we all trooped downstairs for breakfast. Background: I have this little white vase full of colored stones, recently discovered and also strewn about my entire bedroom by the kids.

M: Where is your white bowl with stones?
Me: I'm not really sure (God's honest truth, actually, since Joel seems to have hidden it since The Scattering)
M: I. and I were sprinkling the stones on top of us.
Me: Oh, really?
M: (exuberantly) Yes, we were PIZZA!!!

Also, this afternoon, I. trooped out of his room for the thirty bazillionth time when he should have been napping. I had wisened up and parked myself on my bed to get some work done, rather than making my thirty bazillionth trip up and down the stairs to discipline. He peeked into my room in the cutest possible way, because he totally knows how not to get spanked. After I acknowledged him, he tiptoed in and with his big beautiful eyes gazing adoringly into mine, he said, "This is a pretty room, mommy!" I don't know whether it was the noticeable lack of laundry baskets that have been residing in the corner for several days, or the aforementioned knack for avoiding spankings, but either way this kid seems to be a Husband of the Year-in-Training. His next comment? "I like your bed, mommy." I can't even get over him.

And then of course there's M. again, who instructed me through all the steps of disciplining I. one of the many times I found him out of his bed this afternoon. Golly, it had been so long since I had to spank anybody, I probably would have forgotten something important if it hadn't been for my diligent three-year-old.

Currently, I'm sitting on my bed, having surrendered to an afternoon completely devoid of naps. I'm listening to the sound of M. getting something out of the refrigerator, probably grapes, and I. is parading around in my slippers. Now M. is here asking what else she can have for her snack, and somebody is gassy (not me, I swear). Life is full, life is chaotic, and I wouldn't trade it for anything. Except possibly five minutes to myself in a locked bathroom with a glass of wine.

Gotta run, everyone's crying!