I Can't Blog Right This Second

It's 6:15 pm on a Saturday.

My kids will be getting hungry and feisty soon.

They are really good kids; you should be so lucky.

We are moving out of the making babies phase and into the raising children phase, I think. Three. I wanted five or six, but I'm not a very good (organized, patient, planny, follow thru-y, take them to the doctor for regular check-ups, but they don't seem sick, and such) mom. So, it is probably for the best. Babies are really really cute tho. But so much work. Being able to take my family to Sea World or even better, in my opinion, just to the ocean is good, too.

Canon drew on my white pants with pen while I was wearing them. Truly, I shouldn't dare own white pants. I called him a big jerk. I yelled, "YOU BIG JERK!" The internet said alcohol would help with the stain, but it did not. That little boy ... I love him so frikken much, he doesn't even know. I'd move heaven and earth to see him smile, but drawing on someone's white pants is awfully jerky.

I need to be a better mom. I wish I knew how much time I have. How much for my life, how much with Greg, with them. I had a moment of panic a few weeks ago thinking what if I die. Not that anything in the moment was risky, just a general, overwhelming, sudden fear. I used to think I wasn't afraid to die ... I just would prefer not dying for a while. Ok God, please? Gimme another decade or two please? I'll be better. Yeah, I really don't want to die. I like my life and the people in it. A lot. (mostly)

I think I'll make cantaloupe and boiled eggs for dinner. Something nice and cool and interesting.