Where's the Mama been?

When things are going well and life seems to hit a really easy stride, it's hard to remember how much work a baby can be. When the baby takes TWO 2.5 hour naps for three straight days, it's easy to think "normal" is easy. When the baby will let someone else keep him and will take a bottle while Ella Beth and I go to co-op, it's easy to take it easy.

But then something strange happens, and life ain't no longer easy.

As cute as he is, he has turned into the biggest stinker. If anyone tries to take him to his room for a nap, he starts screaming the second he crosses the doorway. Try to give him a bottle...of breast milk (aka: liquid gold)...and he refuses and spits out any milk that may dribble into his mouth. Set him up with his favorite toys and even think about stepping away? Oh, he's got your number.

Don't let this next one fool you. He's not about to laugh. Nope. He's about to wail. I was waiting to take a picture of his absolutely-adorable-scrunched-up-I'm-so-mad-I'm-pitiful-face...when his big sister came to his rescue and said, "Uh, Mommy. Why are you just letting Porter scream? You need to pick him up and love on him." Nothing like a six year old to keep you in line!

So, I have been on the floor playing. I've been pacing the floor with a baby who refuses to nap, but who also refuses to be put down because-he's-so-exhausted. I've been baking cookies with the big brother and big sister holding a baby on my hip. I've been vacuuming, wiping tushies, brushing my teeth, and teaching the older ones all while holding, cajoling, consoling, spoiling the baby.

At the end of the day, I'm exhausted. My arms ache, and I have this pinched nerve in my right shoulder that screams if I move just so. And I think to myself, "Tomorrow I will just let him cry. He will get over it." But then tomorrow comes, and I look at the two bigger kiddos who grew up before I realized how fast time really went by.

And I say to the baby, "Oh come here, you rotten little thing!"