Once upon a time there was a Mama who was reeeeaaaallllllllly not so talented at housekeeping. For a number of reasons this Mama had started to follow through on her promises to herself to keep things reasonable around the house. This particular day's chore was laundry. Dutifully she fed the dog, the cats, the baby...and went downstairs to put a load into the washing machine, singing to herself as she went. Not even to the chorus, she headed back upstairs, excited that she was following through on her word. The door was locked. Frantically, she knocked on the door to get her son over to it figuring 'he was able to lock it, he's able to unlock it...' This was a false assumption. Eventually, Mama broke through the barricaded cellar storm door and triumphantly came into the kitchen, hugged her son...grabbed her now cold coffee and went outside for a minute to breathe. She posted on Facebook about the horrors of it all, giggled to herself about the whole ordeal and went inside to rejoin her kiddo...and maybe to change the direction of the knob. She came in to an entire box of Rice Krispies on the floor... This seems like an appropriate place to end the story telling...because all I'm left with is: Really?!
Really the day just got better and better from there... there was refusal to nap...inconveniently timed napping followed...and so much whining and screaming. So very much whining and screaming. Aunt Beth came over and played and you turned 22 months old. Twenty-two months. My little man... You were so tiny!!! Minute to minute things can seem absolutely endless up in here, but I can't believe it's been 22 months!
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