It's not always easy.
Last week I was sitting on the couch, nursing the 10 month old (sometime I will tell you about nursing a 10 month old).
At the same time I was watching Roman and Lincoln run around the living room while trying to teach them a Bible verse.
I was also loosely monitoring an interview that Deacon was conducting via telephone.
I just started laughing, the whole scene was just so ludicrous.
Most days, the second we walk in the door:
Berean is wailing. She wants some milk and her bed.
Lincoln can't unzip his coat and wants a drink.
Boots are flying.
Coats are flying.
Deacon wants to know our schedule for the next 2 weeks and when will he be 16.
Oh, and when can some of his work be shown to the public?
Roman is starving. His stomach hurts and when, oh, when, will it be 4:30?
When, oh, when, will Daddy be home?
Some days it is not easy.
Some days I have a sweet gig.
I think we are going on about 2 hours of independent play time.
I got home and nursed the baby. The boys disappeared into the basement. I laid Berean down for her nap, cleaned up the kitchen and put together chili for supper.
I called Noah and told him there was 20 things on my list today.
He hates that.
I told him it was 7 degrees outside.
I hate that.
My baby girl looked like she was dressed by a 2nd grade girl today.
2nd grade girls love that.
Still no boys.
They came up, fighting,
I laid some food on the table and washed 2 dishes.
I turned back around to find empty dishes and no children.
They are down playing in their imaginary world.
One is a puppy. One is Iron Man. There may be Jedi or legos involved.
We mix mediums over here.
I am eating gobstoppers and blogging.
I have a sweet gig.