A few minutes ago Dw and I were sitting on the couch....we were having a cup of coffee and a snack with the four little ones. We are exhausted. We have been working on inventory. Which means, we type over 190 pages of "stuff" onto a spread sheet on the computer. Each line has to be specific as to what each item is, quantity, how much replacement cost would be and what year we bought it in. Yes, you read that right. Over 200 legal pages. That's alot of entries friends. And yes, it is overwhelming and we are only on about page 71, and we have been working on it off and on for weeks now.
After we finished the snack we were slumped on the couch snuggled up together moaning to each other about how frustrating and overwhelming the process is. Liberty and Isaiah had run off to play. Elijah and Elizabeth were climbing all over the other chair kind of screaming like little rowdies. (Now if you are someone who doesn't let your babies climb on stuff, pretend I never said that, okay?)
Elijah and Elizabeth were screaming and being rambunctious and Dw turned to me and said, "I'm 54, you're 50. So what time do these grandkids go home? They certainly couldn't be ours." He and I started to laugh. We then laughed and laughed and laughed. It was therapeutic. I told him that I wanted to blog about it. He said, "Good idea. That way if anyone thinks we have it all together, they will know that we most certainly don't." So just in case you thought we were perfect parents who are perfectly happy with perfectly behaved kids in our perfect little world....Yeah, not so much.