"Of all the animals, the boy is the most unmanageable." *

Erm. What are we up to this lovely Friday? Not a whole bunch.

Took the baby to the doctor today, and he still has the ear infection despite all evidence (other than an actual exam) to the contrary. So on we go to Augmentin. He still sounds like Darth Vader as well, so we get to administer albuterol and prednisone, too. I will pack up the boys again and drive up to the pharmacy, perhaps stopping at the bakery for treats on the way home. And the coffee shop for CAFFEINE. That ten hours of sleep apparently only made up the deficit, it didn’t give me sleep in the bank.

The two older boys have rounded up every Thomas train in the house and are hard at work writing a play and acting out a story about the Ghost Train.

I heard some serious thumping upstairs earlier and went up to yell at the boys but lo and behold, it was our electrician installing wiring on the third floor. Which we’d asked him to do in, um, let me think, September.

I mailed baby clothes (one part of me says, “Sniff sniff,” but it keeps crashing into the part that’s dancing an ecstatic little jig and crowing, “No! More! Babies!”) and bought chocolate and brought back a fabulous haul from the library yesterday. I am happily engrossed in the newest Mary Kay Andrews (I need fluffy and light right now; my powers of concentration are sapped) and have the next Tess Monaghan mystery awaiting me. This weekend holds the last t-ball game and some rollerskating and maybe a DVD, if H and I can stay awake past nine p.m.

With any luck, I will have an hour to first-coat the baby’s room trimwork AND go for a nice long run.

I have butter softening for chocolate chip cookies, and I am planning a spinach-and-mushroom frittata and tossed salad for dinner, courtesy of our CSA.

My life is back to its usual chaotic self, and it’s ok.

To my friend who asked, “Why do people have kids anyway?” I think this post is the only answer I have. And it’s not much of one, I realize. There’s no quantifying the decision to have children. I know in my bones that this is what my life was meant to be. It could be calmer and quieter and cleaner, but as I said before, that wouldn’t be my life. It wouldn’t feel right. You have to do what feels right for you, my friend.


***************

*Plato