15 minutes.
“ONE, TWO, THREE… GO!” and he makes the sound of a gun going off as he runs across the house, thinking he’s as fast as the bullet. “LOOK MOM!”
Everything is loud and passionate, Bear does everything in a big way, wanting to be noticed. Bug just watches him, copying every move. “MOMMY MOMMY MOMMY!” and he jumps off the couch while Bug face plants in the same place seconds later, bounding back up impossibly .
There are hot dogs on my floor, kix crunched into the carpet and some kind of stickiness on most of my furniture. Toy accessories litter my floor like sand on the beach from an earlier play date and I can’t remember the last time I’ve bathed those boys in water.
My soundtrack is laughter and screams, changing every few seconds as my boys struggle epically with each other, each striving to win some kind of silent challenge I can figure out. Their passion, determination and joy almost frightens me sometimes yet I admire it as I groom it.
I 
swore I wouldn’t get up again, I just wanted to write, just to sit, just to be and the Bear came beaming in, “POTTY MOMMY!” joyfully exuberant that he remembered to tell me and I leap up, words delighted, heart frustrated, both with the situation and myself for being upset.
My house is most assuredly not sanitary but we are healthy and full of life. It’s cold outside but the fire blazes in it’s place.