Hmm, run away, huh? Now Mama's gettin' ideas.
Last night was a rough one, Clavey's tum was really hurting, he was arching his back, wailing, not wanting to nurse but hungry. From about 1am until 3:30 am we were awake, completely unrestful until all the massaging, medicine, and finally nursing worked. Until 6:15. So I'm going on fumes right now, and the poking, fighting and crying are making it really difficult for me to be the peaceful, centered mama I'd like always to be. Which isn't to say that it's been a miserable day at all - Jordan and Sawyer used to be best buddies and when they hug each other, share laughter and embark on projects together it brings me great joy. Until someone gets poked.
I used to think baths were a great way for me to relax. I still think they are, but not necessarily with me in them. After the poking incident led to the packing of the running away bag, I put Sawyer in one bathtub and Jordan in another. I plopped Clavey on the bed and he does something neither Jordan or Sawyer ever did which is to fall asleep unassisted. Smart boy. I ate my three hours old breakfast (we've been baking all morning and the cleaning never ends) while reading e-mail and facebook posts, visiting each bathroom every few minutes to distribute water and kisses, check on Jordan's ear infection, peek in to see if Clavey's erupting tooth or bad cold has him restless.
Sawyer got out of his bath, putting away the seventy or so bath toys that had just joined him on some fantastical journey. Jordan got out of hers, putting down her book (she gets that from me for sure - bathing with a book) and asking for a cuddle. I sat down and took her in my arms, so much more of her spilling off every time - she's this huge person now in every way. All my children are so substantial in size, in personality, in joy. Funny that, with such minimalist parents. 
Now I've got a baby in my lap and two peaceful children in the living room, paintings drying an the table, bread baking in the oven. My husband is on his way home and when he arrives there's a part of me that will want to run away - to sleep if nothing else, and to not pick clothes up off the floor and wash another dish, but most of me will want to stay as I don't see him enough as it is. I'll want to stay and watch these naked little beings be and grow right in front of my eyes - little loaves rising in the oven of our home.
