Coffee drinkers will agree that the first cup in the morning is as delightful as it is just down right necessary. Mine was knocked over when Heath began his day with a run-crash maneuver into my bedside table.
In terms of rambunctious physical behavior, the day didn't improve from that moment. The back door was repeatedly banged into the wall; paint and plaster pieces crashing down. The fire fighter ax was beaten into any piece of furniture, wall, or sibling head that crossed its path. Playmates were pushed. Stella toys were ripped from her innocent grip (x 100). Heath toys crashed into Stella (x 100). The bathroom wall was peed on. And it was all accompanied by call of the wild screaming.
And that's just the stuff I can remember, and can even bring myself to type; my brain is officially mush.
Mo', mama, Stella said, when I gave her goodnight kisses.
I love you so, mom, Heath said, when I gave him goodnight kisses.
Slate completely wiped clean.
And here comes my mug o' ice cream. All is well.
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