Deuces

Alana, I appreciate that your primary love language is touch. I can get on board with all the hugging and 20-rapid-kisses-in-a-row vibe you have going on.  Your favorite thing ever is to sit and watch TV while holding my hand, or watching TV and using your daddy as a giant pillow.  Alana, I appreciate that you say: “I’m just choking!” Instead of “I’m just joking”. And we all go along with your improper word choice because it’s just too funny.  Alana, I dig that you love stuffed dogs. Between your Paw Patrol dogs, Our Generation dogs, my random but darling TY beanie baby collection from 20 years ago that you’ve appropriated, and all stuffed animal dogs of other varieties, our home is full of love for dogs.  And when you insist on taking “The Whole Family” with us wherever we go, it’s both sweet and stressful, because you can’t leave any of the sisters, brothers, or mom or dad behind.  Alana, I appreciate that you don’t hold anything against me.  Not yet, anyway. I hope you’ll always be

*I found this in Drafts- so here I am... publishing it 4+ years after the fact* 🤦🏽‍♀️ I have a newborn in the swing.  I have a 4 year old making food in her kitchen.  And fortunately my kitchen is tidier than hers... And if my newborn wasn't asleep- not nursing or crying or in need of urgent blowout assistance- my sigh might have been heavier when I heard the sound of a  falling cup and SPLASH! I did not look at the mess behind me. I sat quietly.  I did not acknowledge the splash. Sayler paused quietly for only a second and then confidently added "I'll go get a towel..." To which I responded "okay- go get a big one..." Because that splash was not slight. Of course- I helped her clean it up.   Some days there is no use sighing (*or crying) over spilled milk.   Clean it up.  Nestle back into couch. Await other mess or food tragedy. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.