Inundated.

My nephew Eddie has been in town for a few weeks (with my sister in tow), and my mom and I are doing the time-share thing that we usually do when they are around, shuttling them back and forth between our houses and whatnot.

My sister and I are both pregnant, both irritable, and both of us have a lot of stuff on our minds right now. This adds up to an atmosphere that requires many theraputic episodes of True Blood and root beer floats.

Plus, Wendy and Eddie are treating Jaimie and I to front-row seats on a preview of the rest of our lives with more than one kid. Holy. Crap. We are so screwed.

It's not all bad, really. In between the screeching of little voices arguing and the pitter-pounding of little feet hammering down the hallways and the daily exploding of our brains, there is sweetness.

Eddie, padding by as I made dinner:
"Wendy, darlin, where are you? Where aaare you sweetie? Where are you, my little sweet-potato?"

Wendy, on family:
"Eddie is my favorite cousin who is a boy. He is in my heart, so he is in my family. I love having a family to play with, don't you?"

Also, there are things like this:

Eddie: Um. Aunt Momo? Wendy startled me and made me pee on the door.

and this:

Wendy: Can you back up a bit, here? You are kind of all up in my grill.

So we are all up in each other's grill. I'm cool with it. Wendy and Eddie take hits off of each other's Danimals yogurt smoothies while Jaimie and I pass the pickle juice and are generally gross about our feelings and random desire for odd food.

Even with the added chaos, it beats sitting around doing all of that by yourself, I'll tellyouwhat.