Supervising violin practice . . . while nursing Owen.
Giving a spelling test . . . while nursing Owen.
Reading a book . . . while nursing Owen.
Helping with a math problem . . . while nursing Owen.
Sleeping!!! . . . while nursing Owen.
Refereeing a squabble, "You over there, you go to your chair!" . . . while nursing Owen.
Walking around the house, picking up laundry with my feet . . . while nursing Owen.
Typing an email one handed, with a phone pinned precariously between my head and shoulder . . . while nursing Owen.
Eating spaghetti right-handed (I'm a leftie) . . . while nursing Owen. (And let me tell you, this, in and of itself is QUITE a talent, particularly if I can accomplish it without dripping any sauce on Owen) ;o)
Really. No wonder my brain feels like it's on a merry-go-round. No wonder Jackson drew a picture of a cow's udder for his Cubbie teachers last night on the big dry-erase board (yes, he really did . . . I'm just thankful it wasn't *other* milk-producing apparatuses). And I have no idea if I spelled apparatus right, I switched my "blog editor" to simplify uploading pictures and discovered the new one has no spell-check. *gasp* I HATE making spelling errors, they completely mortify me. And I would get my dictionary out to check my spelling--because I'm psycho that way--but would you believe it, whilst I sit here typing (isn't whilst a quaint little word?) . . . I'm nursing Owen. ;o)