sometimes. it's just all too much.

i know i should put myself to bed ... but i also know that putting myself there means that before i know it little ones will awaken and call for mama and i'll go.  and snuggle and try to convince a certain little someone *coughcough* finn *coughcough* that nursing in the middle of the night is not such a good idea. 

he's not buying it.

and then eventually i'll meander back to my own comfy bed and my alarm will make it's presence so rudely known.
and then i have to get up and start a new year.

and there is a whole lot of worry and stress and fear and angst in my body tonight.

it's a lot.

it feels heavy and burdonsome.
it feels scary and unknown.
it feels a bit sad.

i think of the to-dos that didn't reach to-dones status.
i think of the lazy mornings in pajamas reading books to my littles.
i think of how fast they grow and how much i'm missing.

it's just all too much.  sometimes.

there's really no happy ending tonight.
it is what it is and i guess i just suck it up and put myself to bed ...

and then wake up.
and snuggle the boy.
and i probably won't attempt to convince him that he shouldn't nurse ... because he's only going to be this small for a very short amount of time.
and i will turn off the alarm and make coffee and hope that one of the littles wakes early enough to read a book before i walk out the door ... but not so early that i don't get a chance to shower first.

i'll be fine.
i will.