Parenting.

Parenting.  It's overwhelming at times.  A lot of my days lately have alternated between 'I'm going to stick a red hot poker in my eye if I hear WHY one more time' and 'There is no way, in the history of people, that anyone has had to endure 5AM wake ups calls for THIS LONG.EVER'

Which leads us to my new favorite Sunday morning game.  Stay trapped together in Harpo's crib and pretend you are Rapunzel and Baby Rapunzel.  What?  There is no Baby Rapunzel???  There is now my little friends.  Practice patience waiting for the prince to save you while Mama sits still half asleep in the rocker and nurses her coffee.  Because she NEEDS the coffee.  Like, to SURVIVE.

And then, just when you are contemplating how expensive it could possibly be to have coffee and red wine shipped directly to your home non-stop so that you can endure, they bring you to church.  They stop the tireless fight, the tantrums and the back talk just long enough to let their innocence, their love, their unconditional love and their sweet softness wash over you and remind you of what's important.  You're all they have, all they know, and you wouldn't have it any other way.  They bring you to their very own state of grace.  Church.