we had 12 million dollars, because, why wish for only one million? Wishing I had slightly longer hair for Kate's wedding. Wishing I knew if I should sing at her wedding. (yes, she asked me. no, i did not volunteer) Wishing to use my brain in a satisfying chunk of word groups. Wishing I were an industrious cleaner and award winning activities director. Thankful for my husband and our home and these napping babies that keep us hopping.
Yesterday I read a woman's blog, and her profile, and I was envious. Envious that she could use foul language without apology. Envious that her writing is so very clever, and that she has made her web page profitable. And that strangers, like me, read her thoughts. And enjoyed the dose of reality in her words, and the honesty about the difficult times in life. Today I read another woman's blog (js) and I am envious of her creativity with her children. It takes time and a certain commitment not to commercialize these little people. Today I turned off the TV. They didn't even turn it back on. I allowed 15 minutes of Mr. Rogers. When the baby was fresh I didn't mind my live in babysitter, Mr Trutech Television, helping me mind the kids until we got outside. But now my preshie is 5 months and 3.5 hours old. No more TV. Okay, not so much, then.
We had quite a thunderstorm last night. It woke Theo around midnight, and Suvi woke also, perhaps because her roommate was standing on his bed saying calmly and consistently "Mommy? Mommy? Mommy?" At one point I had both kids in the bed with us. Suvi dear had a snack from the ol' cafe, although the stores are getting quite low, and drifted back to her sweet sleep. Theo decided to flip and flop and get mom and dad's bed acquainted with his restlessness. He had milk-twice. I offered him oatmeal around 1:30. He declined. My eyes are sandy today because of all the activity. I get nervous in storms and think that my little muffin sucks it up in his little sponge of a headball. Habtamu got up to use the bathroom and I said to him, "We can't have anymore kids until we get a bigger bed." Ours is a full size. "Okay," he answered. It was middle of the night craziness, the flashes of lightening, booms of thunder, the drumming of the rain on the windows where are gutters need fixing. Which is why I didn't get clarification on his "okay." Okay we can get a new bed, or okay we can't have any more kids? Well, we wont get anymore if I keep letting those little beggars in to snuggle/kick us in the sleep. We will be getting a bigger bed. I'll keep wishing.