Evan was snug in his sports onesie.  He was content.  We waited eagerly for Isabelle’s and Craig’s arrival back home.

My family would be back together again.  Under the same roof….bliss.

I heard the garage door open.  Excitement.

I pulled back my freshly washed hair in a tight pony tail, put on some lip gloss.  I knew that once Iz walked in, we’d start our normal routine of hunting for snakes, playing with dolls, building with blocks…all things that required my hair to be free from my freshly made up face.

My bright eyed girl walked in. 

“Mommy, I miss you!” And we hugged. 

She whispered…’Is that baby brother?”

She looked at me expectantly, carefully, peering behind my legs into his room….my sweet boy snoozing, my best girl ready to give him a kiss, my husband walking in and holding both of his girls as we admired our boy.

Or not….

Holy $h!T!  I was tired.  Feeding every three hours.  Pumping every 3 hours.  No sleep. Doing the dance of pumping – holding the contraption up to my breastesses and rocking the baby with a free foot.

For a kid with a heart that isn’t whole, he sure could scream and cry. Why is he crying?  I wanted him to be calm when Iz and Craig came home.

I look in the mirror…whoa.  Scary.  Let’s think…I washed my hair yesterday, so that gives me a good 2 days before I have to wash it.  If I pull it back in a pony tail and add a headband (you know to make it fashionable), I could easily stretch the lack of hair hygiene.

I hear the garage door open.

Kid…stop with the wailing.  Your big sister is here and I want her to see you calm.  I need to be able to put you down for one second so I can hug my girl who I’ve missed!

No luck.  The screaming continued.

Oh wait….that crying sounds older….more toddler….not as sweet as newborn cries…

“I want to carry it inside!”

Ah yes…the toddler, “I DO IT!” phase. We’re there.

Iz walks in.  Carrying duck, monkey, a purple purse and a Dora lunch box.

“Hi, Iz!  I missed you!”  I exclaim.  Trying to talk over the screaming baby in my arms.

“NO!” is her reply.  And then suddenly, she throws herself down in the bathroom.  On top of her toys.  Still in her jacket.  All out tantrum.

The door slams.

“What is going on?” I ask Craig.

Uh oh.  I’ve seen that face before.  It’s the “she’sbeenwhiningandcryingfornoapparentrreasonandI’moverit.” look.

“I have no idea.”  And he walks off.

Screaming baby.  Tantrum-ing toddler.  Tired Mommy.  Frustrated Daddy.

Ah yes….the normal I’ve been praying for.

Praise God 🙂



  1. wonderful that life is “normal” for you!! 🙂 i pray you all get rest and comfort! 🙂