Our house is loud these days. Really, really loud. Ruby is dealing with her own version of my cold and probably teething due to the amounts of drool and shark attacks on my left shoulder. When she's not sleeping or eating, she's screeching. Sometimes with a smile on her sweet little face and sometimes because she's not feeling well. Regardless, it's always shrill. The kind of tones that make the little hairs in your ears vibrate and ring.
In between the shrieking I do my best to submit to the repeated demands to "Watch this, Mama!" It usually involves jumping, stomping, running, or crashing. And repeat.
One of today's requests was to read the new book his Grandma Mary sent in the mail. I told him to "Look at Mama" and he told me to put the camera down and stop taking his picture. Right.
With my thumb in Ruby's mouth and Sebastian leaning heavily on my shoulder I read about the old lady who swallowed some very silly things and we all enjoyed a little peace and quiet.