life is loud.   like, impossible to concentrate loud.  they are so loud.  talking, laughing, fighting, wrestling.  it’s all loud.  constant attention.  if one isn’t pulling on my leg, than another one is shouting for me to ‘look!’ “look!”  or asking for something to drink.  or eat.  they are constantly eating.  how can one person eat so many crackers?! (“oh yed I’d wike some mawr cwrackers.”)

it’s getting challenging at the store.  babies were cute, and easily forgiven.  toddlers/preschoolers are stepped over.  literally.  at least our store will never be accused of being empty and quiet.

I’ve come to realize one thing.  kids are a lot of work.  seriously.  you can’t really cut corners.  and even if you try, it’s still hard (because cutting corners with kids backfires).  they are a lot of work physically.   mentally.  emotionally.  I am beat at the end of the day.  just beat.  I had a friend recently tell me I wouldn’t enjoy being a baker because it was a physically demanding job.  I was sitting there holding 25lb Jack and 34lb Stella was using me as a jungle gym.  I thought I was gonna die laughing.  my life is a physically demanding job.  for me, sitting down is a physically demanding job.  standing up and moving is damn near an olympic event.  bedtime?  Lance Armstrong probably couldn’t pull it off.

they have been hard lately.  and not naughty, acting out hard.  just plain old, truly exhausting hard work.  jack’s been wanting to comfort nurse all the time.  like basically any time he sees me.  which is often.  like every 20 min.  or less.  lincoln and stella FIGHT all the time. squabble.  bicker.  they don’t share.  then they make up and run and scream and laugh until my eardrums want to pop.  and then they fight again.  LOUD.  this life is loud.  (I’m the kind of person that really truly loves silence.  I rarely listen to music.  I only watch TV if there’s a program on.)

my life is 80 miles an hr.  from sun up to sun down.  with the volume cranked ALLLLLLL the way up.  I can’t remember anything because I’m constantly being badgered with requests for milk and attention.  I don’t accomplish much.   They are alive.  clean.  fed.  Stella thinks she’s a princess.  Lincoln is learning respect.  Jack is learning that security is there.  always. every 20 min.  or less.

I don’t want to sound like I’m complaining.  I’m not.  I’m just digressing.  Unloading.  Releasing.  someday I won’t remember exactly what a Wednesday felt like.  I want to be able to remember.  To say, “ah….yes… was loud.  but what a noise….”

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