So hard, in fact, that I've taken to getting up at 5am so that I have an hour or so to take a shower, drink a cup of coffee, and read in solitude. Frankly, if I could get to bed before midnight, I'd wake up earlier than that. The chaos begins at 6:15 when everyone starts getting up, the daycare kids get here before 7, therapies for 2 hours twice a week in the mornings...everyone is on a different schedule, so if you THINK that everyone sleeps at the same time here, you are sadly sadly mistaken...pick up the kids from preschool at noon (Ian and Chase go, but my 2 daycare kids and Gavin don't), lunch, cleaning, entertaining, diapers, daycare pick-up, piano lessons, grocery shopping, church, dinner, playing outside, baths, teeth brushing, bedtimes, cleaning up the kitchen/entire house, random waking up at night...oh, and nursing an infant.
I imagine this is what someone strung out on crack must feel like as the high is wearing off. Deflated. Tired. Out of breath. A little fuzzy on the details of everything.
I also feel like my conversational skills are severely lacking. If I'm not talking about who is using what potty words, or hollering "No, Chasey!", then honestly, I don't think I could hold my end of the conversation up at this point. I kind of wish I could record what I say all day long, because I am pretty sure I repeat the same 5 things constantly throughout the day...Do you have to go potty? Are you listening to me? Chasey, no climbing! Stop swinging Blue Dog! Gentle with Gavin!
The kids are good. I just miss Bryan. And I think I need to recharge a little bit.