Nude Chef

Today I cooked part of our dinner with my pants down around my ankles. Continue reading, please, I will explain. I remember people telling me not to wish too much for Luke to hit the crawling stage. Once he could crawl, that meant he could come to me when he wanted something instead of whining from the other room. That meant he could come to me, grab me by the pants leg and pull himself up while I would be trying to cook, clean, etc. Kris always got a kick out of watching Luke pulling on my pajama pants while I would be trying to tighten the drawstring to keep my pants up around my waste. That was when I only had one child and I wasn't trying to do forty things at once. I had time to stop and pick him up and take care of whatever it was that he wanted. Not anymore. Today, when Eli came in the kitchen to find me and pulled on my pants, they dropped to my ankles. And you know what, I kept on cooking. And then I got tickled and couldn't finish because I was laughing too hard at the fact that Luke and Eli were in the kitchen with me cooking in my underwear. I LOVE being a stay at home mom where dignity is a distant memory.