Failing Laundry

I'm tired.  And by tired I mean 'I'm only getting to sleep with babies in pink jammies on my head' tired.  New promotion, same long commute, spring without any freakin sunlight in sight, tired.  I mean to put this in perspective, I am FAILING LAUNDRY.  I'm out of places to hide the dirty laundry in my house and if this were a life skill being graded necessary to graduating high school, I would be labeled a big fat F for failing.  This is hard.  Two babies and a husband is just. hard.  But there's something about hard that lets you feel the good.  Like really feel it, like velvet and silk upon your skin feel it.  So let the days be long.  The pay off is always worth it.