Thursday

Falling off the Napoblahblah wagon (thanks for noticing, Sarah!:) ) is sorta like eating an entire chocolate cake on the fourth day of your diet. Once you've blown it, you might as well eat a cake the next day, too. And the next. Hmm, now I'm hungry. All I've done the last couple days is wipe noses and sanitize the house. Neither of those activities provide much inspiration for blogging. I haven't taken any pictures, either; see: Noses, runny. Uggh. I have handled diaper blowouts from Hell but I hate dealing with mucus. Just typing it makes me shiver.

Anyway. Both boys want to be held all the time. As soon as their feet hit the ground, they wrap their little tentacle-arms around my legs and hold on for dear life. It's like a nightmarish octopus attack. This is lame, but it really makes me claustrophobic. The instant one applies his death grip, I start hyperventilating. I don't know what my problem is. It's not like I'm accustomed to much personal space. I guess I need the illusion of freedom- at least the possibility that I could run away if I need to. Instead, I try to take deep breaths while cracking eggs or stumbling to the bathroom, muttering 'I'm going to miss this, I'm going to miss this' to myself.

So I feel a little guilty that my family is coming into this germ-infested environment but I can't wait. Ethan pretty much ignores us when the really exciting people get here. Hopefully Evan will hit that developmental milestone soon!