I was taking an important phone call.
Pebble was crying (screaming) because I wasn’t listening to her (and she wasn’t feeling well).
Rocky was crying because (as it turned out) his bottom half was swimming in poo.
I hung up the phone.
I cuddled Pebble with one hand while juggling the smelly baby with the other.
I walked past piles of dishes, baskets of washing, unopened mail and teetering toys.
I stripped the baby. He kicked fast feet in sloppy poo.
Pebble cried. Again.
I cursed it all.
Who’s idea was THIS?
Who in their right mind would make a logical decision to become a parent?
I cursed some more.
I wiped away the poo.
I called out sweet nothings to Pebble.
I lowered my baby into the bath.
He looked into my eyes.
He beamed at me.
I beamed back.
I wondered if having more babies wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all.
This week I’m grateful for my kids. They teach me more about myself in every moment of every day than I could ever have imagined.
What are you grateful for?