A weary momma, but babies don't keep

I'm tired. It's 9:49 pm and I'm tired. Today was my Monday that I decided I am dedicated to running on Mondays and Friday mornings. The girls slept until 3:50am, which is awesome for them, but then meant I didn't really get back to sleep until my alarm went off at 5. I ran, well, I tried my best. I came home, showered, and began my morning marathon. Two babies, two outfits, two bottles, two car seats. One early morning poop, thanks Ella.  My thighs are bruised from carrying two car seats into daycare. I got them in the building, and a second thank you goes to Sydney for another poop.  Double the fun, right??  I work until 5, and come home to two sweet sleeping beauties. Daniel goes out to dinner with friends. I make dinner, the girls have a sixth sense when you're about to eat - and start crying. I set my meal aside and rock and hold and talk to my babies. I have two smiling faces looking up at me. I wash bottles, do two loads of laundry, and trim 20 finger nails. I sit with two babies in my lap and stare at them. I smile and soak it up.  I feed one baby, then a second. I take one baby upstairs, go grab the second. I miss Daniel. I change two diapers, swaddle two babies, and kiss two sweet faces.  I fold laundry, get four bottles prepped for the next day, fix my own lunch, and pull out two tiny outfits. When the girls are good and asleep, I take a nice long shower and shave my legs. I grab a bowl of ice cream and crash, and miss Daniel. I'm tired, but babies don't keep.