The Pants

A conversation Easter morning as Chris and I attempt to wrangle the boys into their Sunday best for the holiday.

Over a howling Griffin, Chris yells to me as I am getting dressed upstairs: "Are these the only khaki pants you have for Griffin?"

Me: "No. But they're brand new. Why?"

Chris: "I can't get them buttoned over his belly. And he hates them. He screams anytime I try to button them."

Me: "What? They are size 2T! They have to fit! He's 15 months old for the love of God."

Chris: "I am telling you - they do not fit over his belly. It's impossible. Do you have any 3T pants I can try?"

At this rate, I am going to have to forget about hand me downs because Aidan, Brennan and Griffin will all be in the same size by the end of the year.

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My dear friend Cynthia invited me out for a girl's night at the Sabres game last night. We had a great time over dinner and drinks and even at the abomination that was the hockey game. It was a perfect break from the life of a mom.

It always surprises me though that I return home after being away from the kiddies all day and all night and I miss them so much it hurts. I always creep into each of their rooms to watch them as they sleep for a few minutes. And a part of me always hopes they will roll over, wake up and allow me to give them a hug. None of them did, so I settled with a gentle kiss goodnight on their sleeping heads.