I'm gonna get up in the middle of this post to get more coffee, you should know this.
It being Father's Day and all, I'm up (EARLY) with the babies while the husband sleeps.
And sleeps and sleeps.
Most days I love the job of being a mom.
Today is not most days.
My two year old insist on motorboating me before eight this morning, refused his breakfast, won't get his hand out of his diaper and will probably poop and need changing while I'm in the middle of this sentence.
My fault. It's a long sentence.
Of course my daughter is being perfect. If you ignore the 3 year old attitude, bouncing on the couch and general bossing around of my son.
I realize this.
Things always feel better after the second cup of coffee (or glass of wine, but seeing how it's not even noon on Sunday, I'll wait)
HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!! (aka- not my day)