(You know what I'm watching?)
I worked this evening.
I got home in time to help put a really cranky baby in bed and listen to Mr. Right curtail the bugs enthusiasm for life with words like, "Pirate, are you playing or cleaning?" and "I KNOW you are tired but nobody is going anywhere until this room is cleaned" and, "Pixie get OFF of my back, grrrrrrr."
Two hours later.
Yes TWO hours;
after The Pixie had been sequestered from the others;
after listening to The Princess's words;
after watching The Pirate repeatedly forget he was supposed to be getting his pajamas on,
Mr. Right got on his shoes to go play a game with a friend while I crashed with my two best friends (pictured above).
As he left he said, "That baby, I just had a hard time with her today. I just can't seem to do it. I mean, if all I do is sit on the floor and play with her, or hold her and walk around the house for five hours, then she's happy, but of course then I don't get anything done."
Honey . . . I replied.
"Yeah I know, I know, I'm preaching to the choir."
You're not just preaching to any choir. You're preaching to The Mama Choir.
You know exactly what I'm talking about don't you?