On a roll...

We went to a concert last night-- The Avett Brothers. (Have you heard them? If you haven't, listen to some of their stuff. It's my new favorite.) How lucky are we?!!! It was fantastic! We felt confident enough to go on a date because things have been going so well around here.
I feel like, sometimes, right when I start feeling really confident, a wrench gets thrown into things.
We got home, and all was well. But then Norah decided that 3AM would be her bedtime. Then Dorothy woke up needing to empty her stomach of her dinner. Then babies needed to be fed again. But Ruby freaked out and decided that she didn't want to nurse and would rather just cry about being hungry. Then babies went back to sleep. Then Dorothy needed to run to the toilet again. Then Ruby woke up REALLY hungry and finally ate something.
Norah nursed and then promptly went back to sleep. Ruby sleeping too. Yay! Dorothy asleep, phew. We could sleep now too. Or not. Back to the bathroom with Dorothy. Brief sleep. Babies up again. This morning, I noticed that Ruby was congested and showing early signs of a cold. Oh dear. Atleast Norah still seems healthy.

You get the drift.

And that was our night.

I don't really have a point to this post. Maybe I just feel like whining.
That being said, I'm really grateful for a few things.

WE WENT ON A REAL DATE. Even though we have two babies and a toddler. Dinner and a concert. How cool is that?

Dorothy has now kept down a banana and some rice milk. Yay! And as I write, she is rubbing against my leg being Dorothy Kitty. I think she feels better.

Dallin is wonderful. He's a good, very hands-on dad. I don't think nights like that could be survived without him. He took the 12:30-3AM shift with Norah so that I could catch some Zs.

I made it to sacrament meeting today, but came home early to breastfeed. Church was a wonderful, welcome break. I miss church (my attendance has, obviously, been spotty the last two months). I'm getting better at going places. Next week we'll try to all go. Things will become more normal eventually. This week it wasn't going to happen. Obviously. That would've been silly after last night.

I have a washing machine and thus don't have to worry too much that we went through three sets of pajamas and blankets within the last 12 hours. And Dorothy has learned what a "throw-up bowl" is and how to use it.

I'm rambling. But I'm writing this hoping that when I'm sad that my babies aren't babies anymore, I won't be too sad. I can read things like this and say, yes, it's a good thing that I have raised babies up to be children who can independently do things like barf in a toilet without too much help and also sleep through the night.

Peace out.