Does it say something about me that lately I find myself reading Dr. Seuss to my 2-year-old and thinking: you know, if you read it the right way, this is pretty profound. It really applies to my life.

Lately, I've been feeling like I'm doing this:

Look at me!
Look at me now!
With a cup and a cake
On the top of my hat!
I can hold up TWO books!
I can hold up the fish!
And a little toy ship!
And some milk on a dish!
And look!
I can hop up and down on the ball!
But that is not all!
Oh, no.
That is not all...

As my friend Connie said, children are wonderful blessings, but taking care of both a 2-year-old and a newborn is not something you do just for fun because it's so pleasant and easy. I kind of feel like I'm just hopping up and down trying not to let this happen:

That is what the cat said...
Then he fell on his head!
He came down with a bump
From up there on the ball.
And Sally and I,
We saw ALL the things fall!

Lately I have been letting all the things fall. It seems like every time I need to focus my attention on Lucy--feeding her, changing her, giving her medicine, etc., Beth runs off somewhere and wreaks havoc. And I am so distracted I just can't seem to manage them both. These things keep happening when I'm not paying attention, and unfortunately the Cat in the Hat doesn't come in at the end with his magic clean-up machine to make everything good as new.

A couple weeks ago Beth found a small hair barrette, managed to break the little decorative flower off of it, said "Smell the flower," and sniffed the tiny plastic flower right up her nose. I thought we were going to have to go to the doctor to have them dislodge it, but praise the Lord, it fell out on its own!

Two days later we had the Visine incident.

Then I ruined a pot because I was boiling a pacifier and medicine dropper to sterilize them, forgot it was on the stove, and wandered off to do other things until all the water boiled away and the plastic had melted onto the bottom of the pot.

Last (and worst) our doctor gave us a new medicine for Lucy's thrush infection that just won't go away. Gentian violet. "It really works, but be careful. It stains," she said. And of course, while I was trying to get the medicine into my screaming baby's mouth, my toddler ran up to see what was going on, grabbed the bottle and dumped the bright purple medicine on the floor.



The carpet cleaning guy came and said: this mess is so big, and so deep and so tall, we can not pick it up. There is no way at all! Or the equivalent of that, anyway. What he really said was: "That's hard-core." He said it was the worst stain he had ever seen. The chemicals that are able to remove red wine and hair dye did absolutely nothing. "The people at the apartment office are going to freak out! The carpet's only two years old!" he said, with a laugh.

Gee, thanks buddy.

Our renter's insurance will cover the cost of replacing the carpet. But we still have to pay the deductible, and that's not cheap.

Luckily, I have a kind and loving husband who doesn't freak out when I tell him that we have to go to the emergency room or that the carpet is destroyed. Without him I think I'd just be curling up into the fetal position with my own little Thing One and Thing Two tied to my ankles so they couldn't do any more harm.

This stage won't last forever, and I just need to do a better job of keeping my wits about me and press on, remembering more advice from the doctor.

So be sure when you step
Step with care and great tact
And remember that Life's
A Great Balancing Act.
Just never forget to be dexterous and deft
And never mix up your right foot with your left.
And will you succeed?
Yes, you will indeed!
(98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed.)