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SKye's Blog

a day in the life... [homepage: http://sites.google.com/site/dskyehodges/Home/|http://skyehodges.netfirms.com]
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BRENDA SAYS: "These days, it is a feat just to bathe each day. With my first child, no problem. I started out just getting a bath before she woke up because I was always up first and on the rare occasion she was already awake, I'd just leave the door open a tiny bit in case she needed me and she'd stay out of trouble while I was in there. If she did want to be near me, she was no trouble. I didn't have to worry about the toilet paper getting unrolled, my bath water being splashed all across America, or the cabinet being stripped of its contents. Life was more easily clean then. Bathing now is a testimony that I'm dedicated to cleanliness because it is quite the task. My second child is, well, not at all the first in any way whatsoever. Even when he was a baby, he had to be near me all the time so I'd put him in his carseat on the floor while I scrubbed as fast as humanly possible but the second I stopped making faces and cooing noises of insanity at him, he'd just bawl. As he grew, the routine became more complicated, according to his mobility and volume. The stories could last for days but I'll just fast forward to recently, the last two months or so. I would love to be clean and ready for the day before he wakes up and I even try (and often do) wake up early just for that purpose. However, somehow that boy has an alarm attached from me to him. Literally the second I move to get out of bed, he's yelling, "Mommy!" and he's too loud to just leave yelling or he'll wake the others. I often check my watch and sigh with relief, thinking I'll finally be able to get ready before he "needs" me but the second my leg sneaks out of the blankets, his screaming starts. I can't even empty my bladder before his lungs are starting on their workout. So he's awake, shouldn't be a big deal, right? Unfortunately he can't keep himself entertained outside of the bathroom. He's a choco-holic and I could set him down with a pound of Belgian bliss and it still couldn't keep him happy. If I'm busy, he senses the need to interrupt. I try to just let him hang out in the bathroom with me but no matter how baby proof the bathroom is, that child is an emergency room visit waiting to happen. I can barely even reach for the soap before he's got the electric razor shaving the toilet paper into tiny shreds and the mirror shattered and the toilet overflowing. He's even been known to climb into the tub with his clothes on. This year is the terrible twos for him and so I cling mercilessly to the hope this will all end. Just when I think I could knock some sense into that child, he smiles and hugs me and says, "I lub ya" and all I can do is thank my lucky stars for him and enjoy our time together. I enjoy my time with my daughter, too, but I don't feel as exhausted by her."

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