Is it Twenty Ten or Two Thousand and Ten?

It's a new year and I don't even know how to say it properly. I guess there has been much debate amongst those who truly have time to argue such important things. I just want to wake up and remember my name, what day it is or what year, not as important at the moment...

We are up to our eyeballs in dirty diapers and laundry here at Tidy Little Mess. It is the perfect title for our lives, honestly. I have one or two things seemingly under control and then everything blows up like Eli blowing through a diaper! You forget what life with an infant is like. Let me remind you.

The lack of sleep is the real killer. You are already down a few million brain cells and then you have to survive on three to four hours of sleep every twenty four hours. It's like this cruel joke you are the butt of. I hear cries from the Moses basket next to me and I am sure my eyes don't actually open until Eli is half way through eating. I'm just waiting for that tug and I know he's nursing so we must be okay.

Then there is this little boy who needs just as much time and attention as the one at my breast. He wants to build forts and bake cookies and paint murals while I still am trying to get my eyes to adjust to the light of day. I love him dearly and try to do my best to keep up. Then at the end of the day when it's time to go to bed I just wish he would stay there for twelve hours like he used to. Two boys waking me up in the night was not part of the bigger family bargain.

This week ends my time off work and therefor we must get back to reality soon. I am sure that somehow we will survive these first sleepless months but if you see a lady with her coat on backwards dragging four screaming children to school or someone crying in the grocery store over spilled milk just pat her on the back and say - "It's okay you'll make it."

She might be me...