This morning I awoke to two small feet jammed in my back, and a wild flopping hand, slapping me in the face every 2 seconds.
Then I hear, “It’s not dark. Get up!”
I roll out of bed, walk to the kitchen. Now me and Tristan are arguing because I made this chocolate milk and HE wanted to do it.
Whoever said “Atleast boys aren’t drama queens” are extremely mistaken. I mean they cry about everything.
Crying cause you can’t get your shoes on? No problem, I’ll help. –CRIES LOUDER!
Finally, we find a tv show to pacify him while I rush to get dressed for work.
And by getting dressed for work I mean picking the toys out of my bed, doing dishes, and throwing on the first outfit I lay my eyes on.
Eventually everything is set in place and we are ready to embark on today’s journey.
Before walking out the door he turns to me and says, “I love you mommy.”
Suddenly, I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. The restless nights sleep, the temper tantrums, and the wild, overly hyper personality.
Oh, The Joys of Boys!