Today was one of those days where someone needed something All. Day. Long.
The baby needed to be fed.
The baby needed to be changed.
The toddler needed to be changed.
The six year old needed a snack.
The toddler wanted her milk.
The six year old needed her finger nail clipped.
The baby needed to be put to sleep.
The toddler needed the legos down from the shelf.
The six year old needed me to look at the thing she was looking at.
The baby needed to be brought down from her nap.
The six year old needed a box to build a house.
The toddler needed help putting the cap back on the markers after she colored on herself.
The baby needed to be fed.
The baby needed a diaper.
The toddler needed a diaper.
The six year old needed me to make a table for her cardboard house.
The toddler needed to be pulled out of the baby walker where she was stuck for the fourth time this hour because she refuses to listen to the logic that she is too big for it.
The six year old needed me to watch her concert.
The toddler needed lunch.
The toddler needed a nap.
The baby needed to be fed.
The baby needed a diaper.
The baby needed a nap.
The living room needed to have a path cleared through it so the toddler could walk without falling over toys.
The laundry needs to be folded.
The six year old wants to go outside.
The toddler wants to go downstairs.
The baby wants to be held.
What are we going to have for dinner?
When was the last time I ate something?
Did I ever pee or if you wait long enough do you just stop having to go?
All. Day. Long.
Often before I had completed one request, another one was being made.
A steady stream of needing something.
Surprisingly, I’m not complaining. I’m exhausted. And I am looking forward to when the husband comes home from work so I can hide in the bathroom for 15 minutes of alone time. But I’m not complaining.
Instead, I’m writing this because, as I look around my trainwrecked living room where at least one toy was broken today because the only pathway through involved stepping on things, I know that the time will come all too soon when there are no toys to pick up. When no one needs anything. When I can read a book and use the bathroom and get a snack for myself whenever I feel like it.
And when that time comes, I’m going to miss this.