Oh. My.

It is 9:30.

Not very early.

Not very early at all.

Yet.

I feel like death.

In fact, I usually like to get the blog done early. Like two, two and a half hours earlier than now....

But that didn't happen today.

And. The only reason I'm blogging right this very minute is because....

Well.

Because I'm ignoring my children.

Who can't seem to stop fighting.

Or screaming.

Or yelling.

Or crying.

Or. I don't even know what. But I am hoping they will learn to just work things out on their own.

I do my very best to teach them screaming for things you want, whining when it doesn't look like you'll get it and crying horrible sobs when you really don't will not get you very far in life.

So.

Let's put it to the test and hope for the best.

Also, I am so tired, I can't keep my eyes open and my brain is fuzzy. Even my hair is tired. It keeps falling from it's nest(I mean that in the literal sense) down to my neck and driving me crazy.

This is the day I might just take kitchen sheers to the head.

Or.

Zach's razor.

We'll see. We'll see how the day goes. I'm about 50/50 either way. So we'll just have to wait and see.

Ok, and here's the thing. I was up later than usual last night. I'll give you that. Part of this is my fault....

Miriah and I were chit-chatting away via text messaging, while her studio was streaming live from nationals and I couldn't go to bed until the last dance, I just couldn't.

Ok?

Plus. It was Phenomenal!!!! So, so, so good!

But anyways. I made it to bed after that.

Well, ok after that and then after a shower and then after some quality spooning time with the hubs.

And if that's how my night would have played out, I would be sitting her today, bright eyed and bushy tailed.

But oh. No.

I'm in the middle of this fantastic, heavy sleep, hours before Stryker will wake up, hitting an amazing REM cycle, when the PERFECT STORM decides to descend on Omaha.

Holy Cow!!!

We're talking pounding rain, loud thunder, constant lightning. It was bananas.

And there used to be this time in my life where I loved storms. Especially the good ones. A storm like last night? Oh baby, anytime you feel like this might be a taste of the Hand of God, it's exciting.

Right?

Or is that just a Midwest thing?

Anyways it doesn't matter either way, because then I grew up and had kids and now I dread a storm system more than anything. I even dread a light sprinkle.

Storms are absolutely NO fun when you have kids.

Especially when you have kids that are afraid of storms.

So 1:30 rolls around and Scarlett starts screaming. Zach and I are in the whole Sleep Stand Off. You know, the one where you try to wait the other person out by pretending to sleep the hardest. Whichever parent cracks first and acknowledges the screaming first loses and has to go check on the baby.

Oh.

We're very mature. Don't worry about it.

Finally, Zach goes. Because, well. He's her favorite and she is always disappointed when I show up.

And she is like terrified of the storm.

In her defense though, it was a little bit crazy.

Anyways, so she is up and screaming and talking and moving around and all in all NOT going back to sleep.

She is in the middle of us and we're like if we can get her down, then we're good. Right?

WRONG.

Because pretty soon, here comes Stella. Who is just as afraid. And she needs to be in bed with us too.

By this time, Zach is done. He is exhausted and he has to be up for work in the morning. So, he does the only thing a man in his position can do.... Find solace on the couch, before he gets kicked out of his own bed by children.

Now that Daddy is on the couch.

And I am in the bed with two frightened, wiggly, talkative little things, Stryker decides it's time for HIM to get up.

So up he gets.

Talking right back at those noisy girls, demanding to be fed and held.

So out of bed I go.

To the chair.

With the lanolin.

Because lets face it, I've got a lame boob. While the girls TAKE OVER my bed.

Thankfully by the time I'm done feeding Stryker and have him back to sleep at least Stella is sound asleep.

I just have to conquer the beast that is Scarlett and I can finally search for that REM again.

No luck.

She pretty much thinks it's breakfast time and is demanding cereal.

So I do what only a good mother would. What only a devoted wife and A+ caregiver is capable of.

I say, "Ok, you can have cereal, go ask your daddy though. He'll get it for you!"

And out of bed she goes, into the living room with her daddy and I don't really know what happened from there because I fell asleep.

Fast asleep.

For the whole two hours in between Strykers impromptu feeding and his normal feeding at 5:30.

And then I fell back asleep again.

For an hour.

Right until Scarlett was awake at 7.

Ugh. What a night.

They will one day want to stop sleeping with me right....??????

I need someone to say yes, because this Mama doesn't do well on no sleep. Or little sleep.

Or really... Anything less than a solid eight hours.

So. That being said. I'm tired. And I was super crabby. But the cup of coffee seems to be a little mood enhancing today.

What I really want. What I would REALLY love. What I am so kind of obsessing over right now.... Is A Ginormous Fountain Dr. Pepper.

Don't judge.

It's summer and that's what summer is ALL about. Stopping at the Gas Station and filling up my Big Gulp with glorious, fizzy, wonderful soda.

But.

Here's the thing.

I'm trying. (Ahem, again....) to go off the pop. I'm back on the wagon.

It's not in my house.

I haven't had one in several days.

And I'm going through withdrawal.

I did super good over Lent, but then. Not so good. And now, it's time to get serious. I might have boob cancer for goodness sakes. It's time to start taking life seriously.

Oy.

I don't really have cancer.

And before you get offended, I am allowed to joke about cancer. So just back off.

But I do want to apologize for severely disturbing everyone who read the last blog. I mean, I hate to say I warned you.... But I did! But also. Yes, I am sorry! I'm not taking any bills for therapists, but it might be a good idea to go see one.

Just in case.

On a completely unrelated note.

Stryker is Six Months tomorrow!!! Holy smokes. Can you believe it? I can't! My little boy is getting so big.

Like literally, he's huge.

But you know what that means. Time to start thinking about number 4.

And by that I mean, time to start planning how I'm going to either convince Zach to want a number four or trick him into number four....

JUST KIDDING.

And, really, I have at least eight more months before I have to get serious. You know CD? Conception Day.

Oh good grief. My life has dwindled down to nursing or cooking babies. Barefoot and Pregnant doesn't even begin to describe....