I think it’s when your sick.

When I got home last night after teaching yoga, it’s like my body totally shut down. My throat started to ache, neck stiffened, eyes began to burn and temples to throb….

It’s like my body said “WHOOOAAAAH, there, Haley! I’ve had ENOUGH! I let you teach yoga, and now it’s my turn for some attention. Gimme gimme.”

But, when you’re a mom, you just don’t have the luxury of giving your body what it needs. There’s no putting your feet up. Because the second you do, someone wants something. And, there’s no closing your eyes. Because the second you close your eyes, your 9-month-old pops your daughter’s pirate ring in his mouth….

I just hated it today, Gorgeouses. I REALLY needed some space. I REALLY needed to run the bath, fill it with pink bubbles, pop on my lavender silk eye mask and BASK. I needed a massage. I needed QUIET. I needed to be by myself, in the dark, or preferably on a deserted island with Minden and mangos.

Instead I got the gamut of T-shirt pulling, hair pulling, earring pulling, nipple pinching, FACE CLAWING! I’m surprised I’m all still in tact…. I also got non-stop “MOMA COME!” Don’t you love that? Like I have nothing better to do. And, LIKE I want to be called “Moma” — rhymes with Mona. LIKE that doesn’t grate on my nerves. When I’m sick. And when I do not want to be called ANYTHING, but especially not MOOOOMA. LEAVE ME ALONE!

Isn’t that terrible? My own kids? Shouldn’t I be LOVING EVERY MINUTE OF IT?

Excuse me one second….

GROWWWWWL! LEAVE THE CAT ALONE! STOP SMOTHERING YOUR BROTHER! GET. OFF. ME! Monkey, GASP, do you have to go pee pee!@#$@#!?

Oy, I hate feeling like this! But he won’t sleep, and she won’t stop, and I THINK I HAVE FEVER!

It’sgrandma came to pick up Monkey at 4pm. Finally. I blew bubbles with them on the front steps until she came. Well, until Monkey spilled the whole bottle. Blurp.

But, now, Monkey’s not here, and I miss her…. I miss her big little head…. And, all that hair…. And, the way she purses her li’l lips (oy)!

It’s quiet…. Too quiet (even as Rascal is KVETCHING. Shuuuuudduuuup! Aaargh).

I feed Rascal an extravagant dinner of vanilla yogurt. Yes, I go all out tonight.

I put some of Monkey’s clothes in her hamper. Missing her. I start the Rascal’s bath. Take off his “Mr. Mischief” T-shirt and stroke his soft-as-velvet skin. I chuckle at the relaxed way he holds his sloppy wet lower lip. I kiss his ear. Give him a big fat ZERBERT on the cheek. And, I kiss him some more.

After his bath, we lie in bed together. He rolls all over the place, all crazy inquisitive, and bites the CARP out of my nipple JUST to see me SCREAM, while I ATTEMPT to get some work done.

At least I’m in bed….

Josh-O gets home. He makes me apple cinnamon tea. For some reason am craving apple cinnamon tea. I hand Rascal over.

6:52. Finally, some time TO MYSELF. Feet are up, Gorgeouses. Feet are up.

I love you, Monkey and Rascal, more than anything in the world. Even when I’m having a bad day. Even when body refuses to work with me and show it…. I love you.

Sometimes it’s ALL just too much.

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