We woke up in a messy house. I cleaned all day yesterday, so the floor was a little shinier, but there was still mess everywhere.

Isabel had a muffin for breakfast, and then half of my muffin. I drank coffee. Or, at least I drank half my coffee. I can’t remember if I actually ate anything for breakfast.

She spent an hour exploring the bathroom. At some point, she found the dental floss and unwound it all from its spool, leaving it in a waxy coil on the hallway floor. She crawled in my lap for a cuddle while I was exploring Periscope. She started a broadcast with her poking fingers. Eight people watched her record a view of our living room couch. At least one of those people promptly followed me on Twitter. (Periscope is weird.)

We took a walk. A nice long walk, hoping she would fall asleep in the stroller. She didn’t. I bought a new French press since Mark broke our 8 cupper and a new travel mug to fit in my stroller caddy. On my way home, I met up with a mom-friend and took a second walk. This time, she fell asleep, her head lolling uncomfortably against the side of the stroller.

She napped for half an hour.

We stopped at the park, just for a quick push on the swing and toddle around the wading pool. She didn’t really want to be there, so home. She needed a proper nap.

She disagreed. We fought for 2 hours. She won. Usually I win. Not this time. I stared at the clock, waiting for Mark to come home, hoping that today he would be quick. I fed her dinner. I gave her bath. She became manic, giggling, and rushing to climb anything, unaware of the potential to fall.

She fell asleep for the night before 7.

I collapsed on the couch with a Strongbow.

I’m exhausted.

This gets better, right?

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