between this and that

i know i am mounting an epic campaign that i cannot win... to keep the house of a one year old and a four year old clean.  and yet, i keep trying, although i do pick and choose where to focus my energy... the kitchen counter, but not the kitchen floor.  the beds, because a made bed gives the appearance of a clean room.  the toys, so we don't break our necks in the middle of the night getting to a crying child.  rarely the cloth kitchen chairs, which take considerable muscle and stamina to free of the food of countless meals.

entropy is a law of physics and we take those laws seriously in this house.

i knew it was only a matter of time before the milk and the rug were introduced to one another.  that said, i think i still swore and told henry 'that was SO not cool!'  i know you're not supposed to get mad at your children over spilled milk, and i wouldn't say i was mad exactly, but henry doesn't just knock his glass over like we all occasionally knock our glasses over.  he flings his glass off the table in fits of frustration.  or else he sweeps it off the table along with anything else in his reach.  sometimes we catch it, many times we don't.  never has it been in the direction of the tasteful red wool area rug or the vintage spoke back scandinavian sofa.  this morning he got hold of william's half-full (see, I can be an optimist) glass and flung it over to the rug, with dapples dotting the sofa.  after greg was already gone for the day, and right as everything was so nicely in control and we were just about to leave for school.  

ohhh....  hentropy.

knowing that henry will get older is one of the reasons i keep raising him.

(of course the other big reasons being unconditional love, and accepting him, despite what i write about him, just the way he is... except when he's awake at 5:00 in the morning... then greg has to accept him, as he graciously did this morning.  (fear of neglect laws only plays a very minor part in my decisions.))

just look at this morning snuggler.  how could you not love him completely?

after the 5 a.m. wake-up, before the milk flinging.  the lovely in between.

yes.  the lovely in between.  the moments that keep our hearts full to the point of overflowing, so that when those tiny curled fingers take the glass of milk and fling it across the rug, it's only the glass that's empty.  the love stays. the milk seeps into the wool carpet.  entropy happens.  energy reverses it.  and if you're lucky, you'll catch yourself in the in between before the next go round.