Reality and Cookies on a Plate

I could not seem to exit my haze last week. Each of my boys had the stomach bug, puking all over comforters, sheets, and blankets galore.  My school load has been amped up even further and I am lucky to get to bed by midnight.  Days like that, where the energy is low and the needs are high, are the days that I miss my mama something fierce.

I needed to feel her in this house, I needed to feel the parts of me that came from her, come out of me. So, I made oatmeal cookies with my baby like my mama did with her baby, me. I let my baby lick cookie dough off my finger, over and over again. I made ramen noodles and laughed as he tried to make sense of how to eat them{how has this child never had ramen noodles?!}. I turned on Counting Crows and danced with my Theo boy. I remembered wonderful pieces that shaped my childhood and then {hopefully}put some of those wonderful pieces into Theo's childhood. 

*That* is how my mama carries on. 

So, even though the piles of laundry{clean AND dirty} are endless and there are never enough hours in the day to get it all done or put away:

or enough hours in the day to organize the endless piles that look like this:

I feel closer to my mama and more at peace with the constant to-do's around me.

I am determined to remember that feeling as we head into the next month{H.O.W. is it October? srsly.}

I am determined to remember that life is NOT about laundry, dishes, clean counters and organized papers.

I am determined to make life less that and more this:

Look at that chub! I die....
{playing the- i took your bracelet and want you to come get it Mom-game.}