This morning after breakfast, ONE broke a plate. No one was harmed. About 60 seconds later, TWO reached his giant toddler arm up and grabbed my hot coffee from the dining room table and poured the entire mug of it on himself.

Unbelievably … amazingly … providentially, he wasn’t hurt or burned. It probably seemed like a very, very warm, hazelnut-scented shower to him. I immediately burst into tears. These children … it’s just nonstop. I think they must lie awake at night and think of ways to scare the crap out of their mother.  

I needed wine. I needed to lie down. I needed to take a pill.

But instead, because I am pregnant and responsible, and pregnant and responsible people don’t drink alcohol or take pills, I scooped up my coffee-soaked child and gave him a bath while Husband cleaned up the wreckage in our kitchen. We have to both bring our A-game when the kids are awake. THIS IS WHY I DO NOT NAP.

Happy Tuesday!