Monday, March 4, 2013


Today started out like any other Monday.

It started with the alarm clock making an awful screech at an ungodly hour (about 20 minutes late). It continued with Nathan talking about who knows what at 90-to-nothing and a chorus of "MAMA! DADDY! MORNING!" over the monitor. That was followed by a thrown-together lunch, a rush of socks and shoes, and a check in the mirror that showed my back pockets hugging my sweet Baby Nora.

Oh, maternity jeans, it should not be so easy to put you on backward.

(Yes, there are pictures. Yes, I will save you from having to look at what appears to be a shapely rear, but is in reality a shapely belly.)

Once my pants were turned around and the bigger boys were gone, I was ready for the long haul to Hope with my sidekick. As I took his chubby hand in mine at the precise moment of punctuality, I smelled it.

And it was not good, y'all.

I don't know why he reserves these diapers for when we're on the verge of being late, but I swear it's some kind of game. I always see a hint of a snicker as I lay his too-big body onto the changing table. And it's always a five-wiper.

After working my way through a busy first Monday of the month, grabbing little brother from day care, and making it to Nashville before the car line clears, we are home. Score.

I walked into the house and it was the polar opposite of the gorgeous March day on the other side of my hand-printed windows. With playing outside dangled in front of the Bauer boys like carrots, I sat the small one in front of Toy Story (not moving is Owen's best contribution to housework) and put the big one to work. We stormed through the house, collecting strewn Legos and dirty undies.

Once the washing machine, dish washer, and toy boxes were all doing their respective jobs, it was time for our Monday reward. To get outside and bask in the glory of a 70-plus-degree day.

Oh, and there are pictures!

I hope your Monday wasn't too manic, but filled with sunshine and smiles. Basically everything other than that last picture, which signals my trying to persuade Owen to stop "playing rocks" and come inside for dinner.

PS: It didn't work. I may or may not have looked like I was stealing him. (It's not an unusual scenario).

Happy Monday! :)

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