Hallelujah. I made it to the studio. Thatch won't stay in his bed at night and Addair pushes, pokes, or otherwise tramples every boundary set before him. I was desperate to get away and paint today.
In progress
I've been thinking about how I can adjust my posture toward motherhood. With another baby on the way I'm feeling like I can't continue like I have been. I find myself going ballistic over spilled milk too many times in the span of a day. I don't know if this will be an interior shift or one of circumstance. Likely a bit of both.