Yesterday began with a rude awakening at 3 a.m. Ella, the older of my twin girls, was crying. She is sleep-trained, and has been retrained twice so far, so I was hesitant to pick her up. But since she fell asleep early, I sensed there was more going on. Diaper--drenched. So I changed her, wiping the white paste across her diaper rash. However, the crying didn't stop there. Knowing her tendency towards dehydration, I filled a sippy cup with whole milk, which she almost knocked over in her frantic attempts to grab it while I was pouring. I'm thinking, "At last! She'll be happy!" But, no. She throws her head back and screeches in that glorious yell that can only compared to a dragon. I cling tightly to her and the cup, which she is now trying to hit out of my hand, giving little scream snaps. Oh, the words she'd say if she were fluent. At eighteen months, she prefers her own language to ours. I sink into a rocker and control my frustration, as I battle with her over taking a drink from the cup. Finally, the precious liquid drips past her lips, and she grabs the cup from me. She drinks it down and falls asleep as I sing to her.
Peace at last. Until I lay her down, and her twin sister, Adelyn, hears Mommy and stirs. Her cry is argued as louder than that of her sister, but it's song is pathetic yet heart-breaking. I rub her back, and she latches her arms around my neck. She's like a little wrestler, bouncing out of her bed and seizing me. Her hugs are so precious, and I hate to pry her hands free. I know in the morning her hugs will be forgotten in her attempt to tackle the world's adventures. As I lay her down in her crib, I sneak out, steeling my heart against her pitiful cries. Thankfully, she falls back asleep within minutes.
But can I sleep? No. Now, I am faced with every "writing" mom's dilemma: do I try to sleep or get up to write for a couple hours? But, I remember my nephew will be coming in the morning, and I will have four youngsters to chase around the house all day. My nephew may only be 6 weeks older than my son, but that doesn't stop my almost four-year-old son from bossing him around all day.
I finally fall back asleep, jolting awake minutes before my brother-in-law arrives. So much for some writing time in the morning or warm cinnamon rolls for the boys. "Writing" Mom is starting off the day down, but thankfully Wednesday is an entire day devoted to the "writing" part of my job.
Today, I wrote the plan for the drama ministry's next series, did some research on writing platform, and created this blog. My time is up already, but I get to pick up those adorable munchkins and love them to pieces!
Any other "Writing" Moms out there? What's your story?