One of the miracles of motherhood: your child can keep you up all night, throwing one tantrum after another (thank you, M), only to have them lift their arms up to you the next morning and say "Mama, pick you up" and your heart melts and life is beautiful once again. Crazy. I'm sure there's a term for this chronic case of amnesia. You can see it most keenly displayed with the fact of multiple children. Labor is one of the most grueling things a woman can go through, and yet, a year or two later, some woman think, "hey, maybe we should have another!" Yup, amnesia.
I'm doing a two week stint of solo-parenting right now, so the long nights, the potty training, and the wrangling up of apartment viewings for Andrew, has been keeping me busy. And slightly crazy. Thank goodness for the small community of Chestnut Hill--at least I can chat with adults when I go get my coffee or pick up chippies at the coop. Conversations without the words potty, poopy, or peepee! Blessedness!
I'm going to go make another mug of Vanilla Coromo. And begin the process of welcoming a new day. It's going to be a good one. I'm willing it into being.