Sometimes I have days where I can’t contain the thoughts in my head.  Like today.  Today I envy my friends with school age kids.  I have been so blessed by all kinds of mom friends – those who choose to have kids close together, those that choose to have them far apart.  Those that want one.  Those that want four.  Those that co-sleep.  Those that consider their beds to be off-limits.  Those that made their own baby food.  Those that wouldn’t puree veggies if you gave them a million dollars.  Those that spank.  Those that don’t.  Those that breast-fed.  Those that bottle-fed.  You get the picture. I love my girls.  But I love myself too.  And I need my time.  And when I think about my friends with kids in “big” school (as we call it in my house) – well, let’s just say there are days that I.just.cannot.wait.  One reason is that I think Charlie gets bored at home.  She’s done better since her run-in with the law (read: assistant director of her preschool) but as always with her, it’s one step forward, two steps back.  This is often the case with smart kids I’m told.  Because she is you know.  Too smart for her own good. And it’s not because we don’t have a busy calendar – quite the opposite – what with school, MOPS, playdates, soccer, church – some days I don’t think it’s possible to fit one more thing in.  But I sort of reject the idea that you can’t just have lazy days at home.  If we’ve had a crazy week, we’ll stay home and hibernate, just because.  And why not?  We finally have a spacious home and I love spending time in it.  But in this stage of life, I find that time at home is also sort of asking for it.  You know what I mean if you have two that are two years apart or less – it can be a royal beating.  Here’s what a typical “at home” morning is in our house: 6 am: Charlie sleepily wakes Vann up, usually announcing she either a. has to go potty, b. wants him to turn on a movie for her, or c. requests hot dogs and macanroni (yes, I spelled that correctly) for breaksast. 7:30 am: Vann rouses comatose me, kisses me goodbye, and gets the hell out of dodge.  “Don’t leave me”, I say, as I grab my iPhone and start pinning stuff. 8:00 am: Get Ella up.  Make coffee.  Give up Matt Lauer for Little Einsteins, thinking, “I’ll catch you later, Matt.” 9:00 am: Settle in with my re-heated coffee and Matt while the girls actually play well together. 9:01 am – 11:45 am: Play referee, raise my voice, give time-out’s, try to keep Ella out of my panty drawer, catch Ella with her nose in my new Stila makeup palette, re-heat my coffee, raise my voice again and threaten to throw away all the toys in the house, send Charlie to her room, chase Ella down the hallway so I can change that nasty 2 year old poopy diaper, re-heat my coffee, shove a handful of pretzel M & M’s down my throat, stop someone from bonking someone else on the head with a teapot, confiscate Mickey Mouse, Rudolph, and Lightning McQueen, and of course, never finish the “Today” show or my coffee. 11:45 am – 12:30 pm: Attempt lunch – sometimes aborting due to 2 year old food fight.  12:30 pm: Naptime for Ella, recently added “Room Time” for Charlie, and hopefully some one-on-one time with my DVR.  Dude.  I am freakin’ pooped.  It’s a wonder that everything coming out of my mouth isn’t complete gibberish.  I think it’s time to get back to the gym and end my self-imposed hiatus.  Not for activity points or weight loss – but good old fashioned stress relief.  I’m getting jittery just thinking about that trip to Target I have to take this afternoon.  Because you know, I don’t do it with both of them unless I am under GREAT duress.  I mean, someone has to be holding a gun to my head.  Or I’ve run out of creamer for my coffee. Which is just so much worse.