It's good to be alive. Of course, it helps that the kids are still sleeping and no one is standing at my elbow saying, "MOMMY!" every 3 minutes. Because that's what my Rachel does. She doesn't say, "Hey, Mommy, can we have a snack?" or "Mommy, I want to play outside." No. She says, "MOMMY!" and stops.
[Why the heck does she keep stopping at that? Why doesn't she continue?]
"What is it, Rachel?"
"MOMMY! Can we have a snack?"
If this doesn't sound annoying, I'm not typing it right. All I know is, every time I hear "MOMMY!" uttered in this tone that's a cross between someone's-bleeding urgency and someone jumping out of a closet to yell "BOO!", my insides seize up; and it's all I can do not to yell, "Just say it! Say what you want! YOU HAVE MY ATTENTION!"
Patience is not my strong point.
[Happy sun image: Free Extras]