Well, we are just a hot mess. Junip and Quinn have some wicked colds (I’m kind of afraid to type that I don’t) and I think Quinn must be having teething pain that flairs up with the suction of nursing, because she’s been screaming and flailing and fighting like crazy every time I feed her. When we finish, I generally have to extract handfuls of my hair from her sticky little baby fingers, as if I weren’t losing it well enough all on my own.
There was a moment this weekend when I found myself sitting on the playroom floor, both girls on my lap, crying, pulling on my clothes and covering me with snot and tears, and me just in desperate need of coffee and to pee. I ended up dragging us all out to meet my parents for breakfast, because I needed to see another adult that badly, but it proved not to be my best decision making moment. Junip puked all over the restaurant table.
I know that motherhood can’t all be sunshine and roses, but man, some weeks are brutal.