It’s 7AM and Elliot wakes up grunting because he is suddenly bored upon realizing he has laid in the bed for 7 hours. Cohen who is also sleeping wakes up and asks me if Elliot and I had "sweet dreams” which is one the sweetest part of the day. He asks that every morning.
Elliot’s diaper gets changed and Cohen is off to the potty which makes me feel like a million bucks. Elliot is so happy that it is a new day as I put a fresh outfit on him. But then his day takes a turn for the worse. I have to set him down because Cohen wants breakfast, a breakfast that usually requires two hands. He immediately starts crying in his Mamaroo although a toy might distract him for a minute or two, but not for long. I can see him from where I am cooking and try and get him to laugh, but he is angry that I am not holding him. Cohen is now demanding “an ice cold apple juice.” And a cartoon. Breakfast is done as quickly as possible (I have it down to a science) and I take some headache medicine from Elliot’s screams. (Somewhere someone is writing an article about how you should never let your baby cry without running over immediately and picking him up.) And oh I wish I could do that. I could do that with only one baby. Two babies, that changes everything. And two babies and a husband who works out of town all week all summer long, well that changes everything more.
I chug down a glass of chocolate milk, the quickest and easiest way to give me fuel for the next few hours. Elliot sees me walking to pick him up and the tears somehow suck back into his tear ducts, and he is the happiest. We laugh and giggle and play until Cohen is done eating and needs his hands and face wiped off. I put Elliot down with a toy but he is already angry, he starts screaming again. I quickly return to Elliot and Cohen asks us all to play with the super hero guys. We have fun doing that, and then we play a memory matching game. Cohen surpasses my memory abilities and wins the game. I am proud and amazed at how smart he is. Then I think about how I must be losing my mind because my memory skills were a bit delayed. That makes me kind of worried.
I pay bills on the computer and phone, all the while carrying Elliot. The people on the phone always ask about the baby because they can hear him making his cute little sounds right up by my phone. Then Elliot gets mad that I am on the phone. I set Elliot down and he actually is ok, so I do a load of laundry. I constantly engage him while folding so he will not get upset. Then he gets upset anyway. He doesn’t want to roll around on his mat or play with his little toys he just wants me to hold him, so I do. And he has never been happier. He smiles a big gummy smile and I make him laugh until its lunch time. I give Cohen lunch let him go to his grandparents because he is begging to go play the iPad with his Ahdadda. I go home and feed Elliot. I am starving by this point and as I lay him down beside me while I eat on the floor, he is mad, crying, and kicking his legs. Sometimes I can hold him and eat but I had a tostada today, and it just wasn’t working out. I clean up after lunch and all the while Elliot is crying. My headache is roaring on. I quickly go grab him and rock him to sleep because its nap time. Then I go on Facebook for some comic relief or something. I see some crazy news articles about the scary things going on in the world right now and then I feel sick and want to throw up what I just ate. I also look at some 9/11 tribute and sob for a minute. Cameron calls me and we chat for a minute. I get on Instagram because it makes me so much happier than Facebook, which I want to delete every other day. It’s like that boyfriend you just can’t break up with because you have been together so long but is totally not good for you. And if I deleted FB I would never catch all of Nathan Lee’s hilarious posts. Well that was a fun 5 minutes. That laundry is not going to fold itself!
So Cohen comes back home and he is down for his nap. Eureka! Now its time to clean the bathrooms. Meanwhile, a commercial comes on TV saying that if I am not using their particular cleaner, I might as well be living in a “Petri Dish” of bacteria and mold. This stresses me out. Oh great, a motorcyclist just drove by and while he his blazing by with his pony tail blowing in the wind he is blissfully aware that he just prematurely woke my baby from his nap. Elliot is very happy to see me and we laugh, cuddle, and practice his crawling skills. Then Cohen wakes up and demands another “ice cold apple juice” and snack. Elliot is so happy right now so I decide to tackle all that with one arm least I make him cry again by putting him down. Now my arm is almost broken but my Elliot is happy as a clam and that makes me happy. Plus that headache is gone now, or at least hibernating. I do more laundry while holding Elliot, and then put all of the clothes in drawers, while holding Elliot. Elliot is smiling ear to ear a big gummy grin. Somewhere someone is writing an article about carrying your baby and why you should never put them down. This makes me laugh how this is an option or choice for some people, with us its the way it has to be. What a luxury to be able to choose that for themselves. Elliot demands being carried and held at all times. I bought an amazing baby carrier wrap when he was born and it has saved my life. I loved having him close. Still do. Its just that when you have another kid sometimes you are required to put that baby down, and that baby if he is like Elliot, a rare breed, is going to bawl his eyes out. I can’t even go to the bathroom with out feeling like a bad mother. There’s no blocking out them cries. Headaches are a way of life now, I don’t even complain about them.
So this part of the afternoon is where I start daydreaming about how nice it would be if Cameron was on his way home from work. But he is not. He is in another state working for the fourth week in a row, and still has one more to go. He will be home for the weekend and we will be working a wedding together. I have a photoshoot and a wedding this weekend and always have a hefty amount of photos I am working on. This happens at night, when I should be sleeping. I can’t nap while they sleep because that is when I have to clean the house. And if I wasn’t cleaning the house during naps I would be working on photos. And if I wasn’t working on photo’s I am physically incapable of taking naps unless I am sick. I hate that, even in kindergarten I would just lay there awake while everyone else napped. So the cycle of tiredness continues day by day.
But back to today. We have been playing all kinds of things, and now somehow it is 8PM. My tummy is rumbling from barely eating and breastfeeding all day, and Cohen also says he is hungry. It’s time for dinner, time for chopping things with a knife and boiling water, so that means, time for Elliot to be put down on his mat in the floor where I can watch him from a safe distance. No baby wearing while doing all that mess. I began cooking, and Elliot begins crying. Cohen is upset that Elliot is crying. Cohen is running around covering his ears and yelling for Elliot to stop crying. I am about to pass out from hunger and am trying to cook as fast as I can. It’s almost done. Cohen is getting impatient. Elliot has never been more mad in his life. I am about to have a panic attack. Should I like, get a nanny? Should I call someone to help me? Why is this so overwhelming? Then I repeat to myself as dish out the meals, this is only temporary, and it won’t always be this hard. Somewhere, some one has a secret camera watching me, and writing an article about how I am the worst mom ever for letting my baby scream and cry like that the whole time I make dinner. But what the heck am I supposed to do at this point? How do single moms do this? Why is my body and heart and soul demanding I have another baby immediately even in the midst of all the chaos? Why have I not started running down the street tearing off my disgustingly dirty clothes off already????
We eat dinner and Elliot loves his mashed potatoes and peas. Cohen feeds himself which makes me so happy, even though half ended up on the floor. But he is such a big boy. Potty trained and all. Nothing makes me happier. It is time for Cohen’s bath. Elliot has to be put in his crib so that I can help Cohen get in and he.is.NOT.pleased. The crying bellows. That headache is coming back. I am putting Cohen in his night clothes and he wants me to get Elliot to stop crying, but Elliot won’t stop crying, because I am still trying to get Cohen ready for bed and that requires two hands. Someone is probably standing outside my window watching this go down shaking their head in disapproval. Letting that baby cry. Trust me, TRUST ME, its not something I am happy about. But when you have two, it happens. I brush the tangles out of Cohen’s hair, and then he runs out of the bathroom to find his stool so he can brush his teeth. I reluctantly take this opportunity to look in the mirror. Yikes. Just as I suspected. I have never looked more disguising. Cohen is back and he brushes those teeth. Cohen is down for bed and I rock my sweet Elliot to sleep. He is so tired. I hold him a while and study his face, his tiny feet, his hands. I put him in his crib, he wakes up. Try that three more times and finally he stays asleep. Then I miss him. What in the world. :)
So here is the bright side. Cameron will be home next Friday, and will get to stay home until FEBRUARY. Or else, we would of had to figure something out. So I am doing the best I can, and I have that. I have a husband who reassures me that I am. Here is the other bright side. Somehow, through a headache filled day like today, I recognize that these are the most precious moments of my life, spending my days with baby boys I love so much my heart could burst and I wouldn’t trade being their mother for anything in this world. Cohen wraps his arms around me before bed and says, “I love you mama.” I love him too. And my baby buddy Elliot. I love them so much. I love this life so much. I’m so grateful. For my family, my home. I get to help support my family with my job, which happens to be exactly what I wanted to be when I grow up, an artist. I’ve been a photographer for years now, and I love that I can do what I love and still be home with my boys. I don’t have to work with anyone, its just me, doing things on my own pace. There is a lot to be thankful for, and that is what gets me though rough days.
Now, its time to work on photos for about an hour while Steel Magnolias is playing in the background cracking me up. Then I need to clean the kitchen. Then I will go to bed and rest this weary body. Better wrap this up and get to it! Wait a minute, when was the last time I showered??
Faith, Trust, and Pixie Dust