Two more hours

"Two more hours, you rub my head." This was the request I got tonight from Turner as I got ready to walk out of his room after story time. He has no concept of time, but "Two more hours" has been what he asks for. Two more hours to play, two more hours of his show, Pop will be home in two more hours, and two more hours of me rubbing his head.
I'm no fool, I know it's a stall tactic to prolong his being awake. I choose not to care that it is a stall tactic and look at it as my son loves me and wants just a few more minutes with his mom. Leave me my delusions.
So if I had this "Two more hours" that he thinks exist for the fun stuff what would I do with my two more hours? Well, I think I would do what I already do. I would wake up and share a bowl of oatmeal with my son while holding my daughter in my lap. I would spend the morning catching up with good friends. I would rub Turner's head while Tate lays across my shoulder. My life is happy and I am thankful for it. Having a second child has only made it more full.
Tate is in my lap right now making her sweet sleeping noises and I can hear Turner talking to himself as he settles down for sleep. The only thing missing is Papa. Working late happens. We'll enjoy tomorrow or the next day when he's here for the supper time battle and the bath time fun.
So day two of me and two kids has gone OK. Yes, Tate is two weeks old but my parents were here to help, and what a help they were. I am dog tired and still have to bathe myself and my daughter, finish cleaning the kitchen, eat supper, fold one more load of laundry, feed Tate two more times before bed and I'll be able to hit the sheets with all my To-Do's checked off for the day. I figure I won't be able to accomplish much of anything on half of my days and only some of it on the good days. But who really cares if the bed is made every day? As long as the rumpled sheets are clean and the kids tucked in them are fed, happy, healthy, and above all loved, then my real To-Do's are done.