It's a...

...Mom sort of day.

Not necessarily a Like My Mom sort of day, but just the kind when being a mom feels very real.

I think I slept from 10pm-1:30am last night. I'm not sure why Aubrey was awake so much-- she's not very congested by now-- I just know that she was. She had a bad night. Babies do that sort of thing.

I have changed a certain son's very disgusting diaper twice already this morning. I think it will be a long day in that department.

This certain son also has required that I "fix" his socks what feels like every 15-30 minutes since he woke first thing this morning. Fixing = making sure the seam is perfectly centered across his toes and that the heel isn't slouching a bit. Was it me that once said he was easy-going?

I started laundry while stirring the black beans while sanitizing the bottles while ordering two Christmas gifts. If you called and I didn't answer, it's because I was already doing far more things than I have hands for-- and I simply refuse to start using a hands-free headset for phone calls.

And the reason I haven't called back is because I'm too tired.

I'm wearing the clothes I wore yesterday since the path of least resistance this morning meant putting them on instead of picking them up from the heap they were in and folding them. I hate wearing the same clothes two days in a row because it makes me feel sleepy and feeling sleepy comes easily enough today.

Bronwyn brought me two toys that were growing mold and needed to be cleaned. I don't remember ever cleaning moldy toys in my former life.

My means of transportation has been borrowed by my husband because the car muffler needs to be repaired or replaced. It doesn't matter because I wouldn't go anywhere anyway but not having it sitting in the driveway reinforces the housebound feeling.

It's a Mom sort of day and I really don't mind.

After all, I will wear the same clothes two days in a row and it won't matter because my kids don't even notice. I will change diapers and wash moldy toys and be glad that my jobs don't require much brain activity. I will let voicemail answer my phone and callers will excuse me with thoughts like, "She's probably putting the kids down for naps," or "I bet she's up to her eyeballs in laundry." I will go to bed at 8pm tonight (if all the children are sleeping at their usual time) and nobody will think less of me because... well, because I'm a mom.

You see, it all works out in the end.

And the in-betweens are filled with baby coos and toddler laughter and and offerings of plastic tea cups filled with invisible hot chocolate and seeing four little heads peeking out from warm quilts and parades put on just for me.

I like Mom sorts of days.