Hit the fan.

One of my New Year's Resolutions is to stop saying crap so much. It's a gift for my mom, really. But, if I were to say crap, I would only say it to explain that "it" has hit the fan. I'm pretty sure that's the right expression here. Doesn't it mean that things have unraveled? That things have gotten crazy? It does? Then, yes, that's right. The crap has hit the fan.

My mom and dad left on the 29th, leaving Erik and I to man our three kids on our own. We've employed a zone defense. This past week Erik only worked half-days the first three days and then had a four day weekend. Thank goodness too, because I really needed to be eased into reality. The reality is, is that there are more babies to hold than I have arms to do it. I have, however, gotten better at the tandem nursing business. (Which, if you ask me, should be an Olympic event. I understand that for modesty's sake that it's not, but believe me, it's just as difficult as a triple axle-double loop, I'm pretty sure.) In fact, just this week I was able to put on Reid's shoes whilst nursing two babies at once. So, while it's a skill with a very limited use, I'm happy nonetheless that I'm mastering skills such as that.

So, tomorrow I enter the real world. Reality. Things like: grocery trips where I maneuver two carts-one full of kids and one for food, managing all three while at the Dr. for Alec, taking care of household problems like how I've run out of clean underwear, and maybe-just maybe-make dinner. Erik and I really, really enjoyed having my mom here and all the wonderful meals that she made. Now I need to remember how to cook after my two month hiatus. Plus, as an added dimension of tricky, I need to figure out how to be reconcile my eat-meat-very-sparingly-atarianism (which is actually just a fancy way of saying that all I want to eat anymore is smoothies, bread and cheese, and beans) with the husband's habit of eating like a regular person. We'll see how that goes.