While the morning was likely an indicator for what I will be in for with two boys, the afternoon certainly was not.

      I survived. I didn’t rock it the way I was hoping, but that would be because I have the Tasmanian devil working his way through the house leaving a wake of destruction behind him. I wish I were kidding.

      There were two moments where I thought he was going to do structural damage to the house. The first was when I locked him in his room so that I could take a shower while he was contained. The “lock” on the door still allows for about 4 inches of door movement and he knows this – so he either slams the door back and forth, making you think that the molding on the door is just going to give way or he tries to use his body to pry the door open. I haven’t posted his 2 year check up stats yet, but Carter is a tank. A TANK. You look at him and don’t think he is that big, but you pick him up and instead of this feather light child you are expecting, you just picked up your husband instead. Yeah. I am not kidding. Tonight, Jeremy removed the door knob from his door.

      The second potential for structural damage was when he decided that he needed to open his closet door – we have plastic components at the top that prevent that. Except when you have The Tank going at it. He yanked as hard as he could and I thought he was going to rip the closet door off – thankfully the plastic component just went flying.

      Needless to say, he spent a bit of time in his high chair while I was feeding Gavin. And our house is still a wreck. I have NO IDEA how I am going to keep this house “show ready” at a moments notice when I am living with The Tasmanian Tank.

      On a bit more sobering (and much sadder) note, my mom and I went to the memorial service for the husband of a friend I play soccer with. My friend has a daughter that is several months older than Carter and a little boy due in a month. Her husband has battled being bi-polar his whole life and a week ago decided to end his life. I cannot imagine how she is coping and dealing with everything and am in a situation where I can probably empathize slightly with what she is going through with regards to handling the kids. But even then, I can’t even let myself go down that path. If something were to happen to Jeremy at this point in our lives, I would be lost. Completely and utterly lost. And every time I think about being in that situation, I lose it.

      My thoughts and deepest sympathies are with my friend, especially knowing that she hasn’t even begun to deal with the hard stuff that is to come. And tonight, I am hugging my husband and boys just a little longer and holding them just a little tighter.


      Tears for your friend