Some days my life can best be described as a never ending game of Whack-a-mole. The only difference being, I don't earn tickets to redeem for Chinese handcuffs or some sweet erasers. It's as if I'm constantly going from one child to the next, getting one settled, only to find another has popped it's little head up. Just as the feeling of satisfaction and accomplishment at soothing one baby begins to wash over me, another one decides to start the whole process over again. I'm beginning to believe they have a secret triplet convention each morning to game plan and strategize.
 |
| No children or moles were harmed in the making of this image |
"Who is going to start the crazy game?", they say. Often Hudson is the volunteer for this position, he is pretty good at it and has stamina.
"Which one of us will outlast the others this time?", they ask. It seems that this is Sloane's favorite role. Little do they know, I will outlast all of them every time! [Insert evil laughter here]
"Who should be in charge of 'popping up' most frequently?", they conspire. This one is definitely a shared responsibility. I get the feeling that its three against one.
It's ok, though, because I too have stamina and a game plan (it's called survival mode, but that's ok). I also have reinforcements; I'm talking about you, Gramma, Nana, ceiling fan, clock and picture frames! Furthermore, I love playing the game! I may not be great at it yet, but I get better everyday!
Happy 12 weeks kiddos!
 |
| We got Sloane and half of Hudson looking in this one. |
 |
| Here we have Dylan and a portion of Hudson's attention. |
 |
| Sloane and Dylan are looking, and Huddy has completely checked out. White flag is flying. |
No comments:
Post a Comment
Leave a comment