What do you do when you wake up one day and realize this is the fairytale you've been awaiting? You pray to God, then open your eyes.
And the toddler your husband laid beside you in bed to try to coax a few more minutes of sleep from head butts you in the lip and draws blood. Your blood.
And the daughter you woke every four hours for overnight to give those precious breathing treatments to begins a coughing fit that reminds you, really, you slept through that last treatment.
And the playtime you promised the kids turns into seven people talking and demanding your attention all at once when there are only four standing before you. One of them actually lying on the ground screaming because you told her "no." An hour and a half ago.
And you remember in high school when you did your teacher work-study program and vowed never to work with more than one child at a time --- which was why you went into speech pathology instead of teaching and fought so hard for the hospital to stick with individual therapy, not group therapy. Yet God gave you twins. And then two more after that.
And you realize you play board games and read them books for a very good reason. (It's quieter.)
And you also realize you aren't writing a blog as a memoir of your life with them, but instead as a reminder of how they tortured you as children, and you want them to know it.
I'm just saying, what do you do?