Around 5 a.m. Maggie comes into our bed every morning, if she isn’t there already, and announces that she’s going to get her milky. We can hear her feet pitter-pattering down the hallway, the grunt that goes with her tugging the fridge door open, and the sprint back to bed. She snuggles herself in the middle of Barry and me, with Syd snoring at her feet. Most mornings our bed feels crowded because I’ll be feeding Audrey on the other side. We make it work, all in the name of precious sleep.
A couple days ago, the morning events were exactly like any other day, with Maggie handing me her milk cup after she announced she was ‘all done!” Without opening my eyes, I grabbed the milk cup and put it on our headboard and we all promptly feel back asleep. Jump an hour or two later, and Maggie whispered into my hear that she was going to check out the window if it was daylight. I might have murmured a response, I don’t remember because I was dead asleep.
She stood up and lifted a couple slits of the blinds to check for the morning light. In doing so, her milk cup fell off the headboard….ON TO MY NOSE!! I have never been punched in the face, but I’m fairly certain I can go the rest of my life knowing that a milk cup did the same amount of damage and I experienced the same amount of pain.
I went from a deep sleep to having my nose throbbing in pain in a matter of seconds, not the very best way to wake up. It has now been roughly three days and I am still sporting a fairly nice bruise on the bridge of my nose, not to mention the bump that has also become less notable with each passing day. I’m thankful that my freckles cover up the black and blue.
The falling milk cup story has absolutely nothing to do with these pictures, but I keep scratching my nose and am reminded of the random anecdote. Plus, we’ve been laughing about it around here regularly.
On Mother’s Day weekend, we headed up to A-Town to visit my family. We had toyed around with the idea of going somewhere and actually doing something, and leaving the kids with my parents, but one thing lead to another and we ended up having a nice, relaxing cook out at my parent’s house. We had brought the makings for S’Mores and my mom happened to have hot dogs, wine and salad (with yummy lettuce from their garden!) on hand, so it worked out perfectly.
It almost felt like we were camping, minus the whole part about pitching a tent and not having a toilet. Maggie did some major digging and towards the end of the evening, we hauled her upstairs and directly into the tub to rinse off the dirt and campfire smell.
My parents recently added a fence around their expanded vegetable garden and it is gorgeous! I have a deep appreciation for all the work it takes to maintain a garden of any sort, because I’m struggling with the small patch of dirt in our back yard that we call a garden….
