All the kids got up today at roughly the same time. The requests for food and drink started to come rapid-fire and I set off for the kitchen…but, no, the baby isn’t happy anymore, so back to the living room to pick him off the floor and there I go to do my morning chores with baby on hip. As usual.

I’m stooping to retrieve clean dishes from the dishwasher and multitasking the preparation of Aunt Jemima frozen waffles and pancakes, cereal, milk, and juice and internally laughing again at the (male) friend who was shocked when I confessed to chronic lower back pain (mild) for the past, oh, 9 months or so (last part of pregnancy into 7 months of baby), when I feel wetness on my arm.

I pause to check the baby’s undershirt, suspecting a very wet diaper (it’s first thing in the morning), and finding that it’s not urine but it’s sure yellow.

sigh.

No wonder the kid was fussing. What a beautiful start to the morning! And my PJ sleeve is yellow too. And now I’m reminded of the growing pile of laundry…

Here’s Pete at breakfast yesterday.

“Do you mind, Ma? I’m trying to eat.”