Gary and I try to roll up the bags but Giddy is rubbing against me like a cat and clawing at me and pulling my hair and climbing on me. Nev insists that I look at how she has arranged the contents of her basket on her dad's night stand. Zurich is just puppy dog eyes in the background whimpering every so often and Gary is heaving and hoing trying to suppress the sleeping bag enough for me to keep the extra material out of the way and zip is the storage bag's zipper. Giddy is hampering my ability to move and see and Nev is making my ears ring while Z pulls on my heart strings because he's been waiting all day. Eventually both sleeping bags are zippered shut.
That's 10 minutes, maybe.
I'm nursing the baby and Nev is wandering up and down the halls. And I still have to move laundry and clean up dinner, etc.
This is the life I chose.
I am going to choose it again as I put the baby to bed, find Nev still awake, and head downstairs to spend the next two hours on chores, because I am lucky.
I have a joy that most people don't even know they are missing or that most who do have it don't know that it is a joy.
I have a family.
I have children.
I have a husband who provides for us in many ways. He lives toward a higher moral standard than most men in the world and he's imperfect at it enough to love imperfect me.
And because Gary will most likely help me with the kitchen and laundry tonight.
Coretta