Sundays of sleep deprivation, statues and swimming

We have each lived a life that has molded us into who we are today. With a tragedy and a near tragedy in my past, I yearn to be carefree. To not sweat the small stuff, as my brother would say. Unfortunately, my mind isn't wired that way and a certain underlying fear lurks about in the background. Life as we know it can change in a split second.

When the girls were infants, I feared the night. As one (or two) of my precious little ones snuggled in the pack-n-play at the end of my bed, I slept with the lights on. I constantly crept across the bed to check on them. To this day, I still peer in on them during the night. It's an impulse I can't control.

To this day, I say a silent prayer each morning to a god I don't entirely understand that my girls, my babies, are safe. That we made it through another night. This is why I hate to complain about the early morning wake up calls. The cries of "Mommy!" at 6 o'clock in the morning when a certain someone realizes that I am not in the bed with her. The padding of feet and pouty breathing next to me at 5:30.

Waking up early every day of the week is draining especially when I am not always allowed the luxury of sleeping in my own bed. Again, I don't want to complain as Rich gave me the opportunity to sleep in on Saturday morning. Sunday morning was his turn.

I admit to being a bit snappy with the girls a few times early that morning. There was whining and crying and fighting over toys. Statements such as "maybe you wouldn't be so cranky if you didn't get up at the crack of dawn" and "the next toy you fight over goes in the trash" escaped from my mouth. {Sigh} Multiples are not always built in playmates.

But then they started playing nicely together. Their play session, of which only they completely understand, lasted for an hour. I decided to forego the laundry and cleaning and gave myself a manicure instead, which is an absolute rarity in our house.

We had plans to attend a pool party around lunch time at the house of an acquaintance. The girls are still demand feeding at four years old and eat lunch around 11:00. I believe that Emily was the most excited for the "swim party" as she insisted on changing out of her pajamas fairly early.

This all started with me attempting to take a picture of Emily's outfit because it was truly awesome. She actually posed for me, saying that she was a statue.

And then Allie and Anna joined in pretending to be statues as well. I have no idea where they picked up the statue concept.

I had to post all of these because cooperation from three four year olds is not a common occurrence these days.

Lunch.

Emily was in a mood. She wolfed down her food but instead of leaving the kitchen and playing by herself in the other room, she kept returning to the kitchen to mess around with Allie. Rich repeatedly asked her to stop. I was upstairs taking care of laundry when I heard a loud thud followed by hysterical crying. Apparently, Emily had crawled under the table causing Allie to flip her chair backwards.

I live with the assumption that one day meal time will be normal. Whatever that is.

Unfortunately, I didn't lug my camera along to the pool party. I feared the look of those who may not understand my little habit and in making that decision, I missed some fantastic photo opportunities. Such is life.

So, yes, sometimes multiples are built in playmates. When we returned home, the girls invented some sort of playground game using their Chutes and Ladders board game.