Staying at home with children is a whole new ball game. It's sort of like this: say I was an expert at baseball. Let's compare the wisdom I gained raising Pearce and Cole to that. I'm a seasoned baseball veteran with overall good stats. Enter Stone and (especially) Cade. You've just taken me from my comfortable world of baseball and dropped me onto a cricket field. Ok, there's a pitcher, a bat, bases - looks slightly familiar. Except you call the pitcher a bowler, the batter a batsman, and the field is sort of roundish with only two bases. Suddenly, I'm in familiar-looking, but totally alien territory.
You get it? That's what it's like raising these two little ones (again, especially Cade). Case in point, this morning, I was feeling pretty cocky. Too cocky. I needed to get the Monday routine started. Mondays, I have the house cleaning to do - vacuuming, mopping, dusting, etc. - on top of my normal daily routine of laundry, dishes, and phonics with Stone. I devised a brilliant plan to keep the kids out of my hair for what I was sure was going to be along time.
Sidewalk paint.
We have a *tiny* pad of concrete out our back door that was the perfect place. They were safe, engaged, and (best of all) out of my hair.
I went to load the laundry and make the bed feeling pretty good about myself. This is what I came back to. People, I'm telling you it was no more than 3 minutes later.
Who am I kidding? Raising Stone is like Cricket. Raising Cade is like being dropped into Quidditch.
Good thing he's so cute. How else would he survive?
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