The other night I was in our living room with the 6 week old Bug, while Luke and the 2 year old Panda Bear were getting ready for bed. I heard a strange noise coming from the audio baby monitor and so I switched on the camera to see what on earth they were doing, and this is what I saw:
The cat was trapped under the big girl bed, and the dog was anxiously standing guard in the doorway making sure the cat couldn't leave the room. Getting the cat out was exactly what my husband was trying to do, so he was pretending to be a vacuum cleaner to evict the cat (she hates vacuum cleaners). Meanwhile, the 2 year old was jumping up and down on her bed throughout the whole thing because it was just so much fun.
It had been Luke's first day back to work after his paternity leave, so needless to say it wasn't the best day any of us had ever had. I'd had some not-great mom moments that I wished had never happened, and I while there were also some mom wins, I was still feeling guilty about the bad moments.
But, guys, seriously. My husband was pretending to be a vacuum cleaner. My child was clearly unscathed by my harsh words borne out of frustration earlier, since she was thrilled to be jumping on the bed through the commotion (no, she's not supposed to jump on the bed).
Did I mention he was pretending to be a vacuum?
We all survived. We were all mostly dressed, mostly fed, and mostly diapered/potty-d. There were tears, there was frustration, there were regretful words, but there were also snuggles, stories, and laughter. My girls got to love on each other and I got to love on them. It took a grown man imitating a major household appliance for me to realize that, all-in-all, it had been a pretty good day.
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