Is Daddy Home Yet?

We played at the park today after running errands. It was both delightful and soul-crushing, which is how our days are right now. Ethan is incredibly stubborn and energetic and defiant and sweet and logical and illogical and affectionate and psycho and thoughtful and... ugh, I'm worn out just writing about him. Evan is at a particularly charming stage, except when his teeth are hurting, which is most of the time. One finally came through last weekend but another one is just barely poking through his gum and seems determined to stay there. However, once he's drugged up a little, he is really fun to be around. He has a lot of new sounds, which I would tell you but I have no idea how to spell them. (I have got to find the cord to transfer videos to this thing.) He is always so happy to see me that I can forget, momentarily, that last night I offered him eleven bajillion dollars to just go to sleep already, and when that didn't work threatened to make him sleep outside with the dog. (Didn't work either, and I didn't follow through. Damn! Consistency is everything. Maybe next time.) (Just kidding.) (Maybe.)

Yesterday we went for a walk. When we started out, it was cool and breezy and both boys were settled in the stroller. Ethan and I talked pleasantly about what we saw/heard/were going to do/etc. Ten minutes later, I was gritting my teeth to keep from telling him to put a sock in it. By the time we got home, it was hot and muggy and each boy was asleep on one of my shoulders and I was trying to push the stroller with my knees. I abandoned it at the end of the lane and was sorely tempted to leave one of the boys, too, but I restrained myself. Super Mom, that's me.

Now I just want to crash on the couch and read the paper but obviously that is not an option.

Could you please pass me the Zoloft?