Dates...at home.

On my way home from work today I looked up at Peavine Mountain and thought, if I didn't haven't children maybe Joey and I would hike up that mountain and have a picnic dinner.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. HA!
Yea right. I am so ridiculous. It's like raining and freezing outside and we definitely WOULD NOT have hiked our behinds up that mountain, but I think ridiculous things like this sometimes.
Instead I came home and Joey had made a steak dinner with potatoes and salad and wine, and we ate together. Noah fell over on the laminate flooring and screamed for a couple of minutes and Ethan wanted juice right as we all finally sat down but it was home and it was good. What would life be like without them? I'll tell you what: it would be me WANTING them. That's what it would be.
I'm on my second glass of wine. We're having a date at home. Right now I'm on the computer (duh) and he's watching baseball, but eventually we'll end up all tangled together on the couch.
It's the Idol finale. We've been watching for the last three or four years, and each year I seem to like it less, but we still watch it.
Noah didn't want to go to bed. I tried to comfort him, sing to him, heck I even offered him the boobie (haven't breast fed for a while--I was just curious if he'd take it and if maybe I had a trickle left) and he acted like it was cauliflower. He scrunched his nose, turned his head and screamed louder. Guess it's really over.
I wanted to hold him, comfort him, but this is the difference for me on the second one: I know when it's just useless. With Ethan I would have held and sung for hours. But with Noah I try for like four minutes and then give him a kiss on his forehead and say, "Goodnight." He screams like he's being branded, or circumcised. Poor baby.
And then ten minutes later he's out.
OK. I think it's couch time, the wine is getting to me, making me sleepy, and I better quit before I write something on here I will regret in the morning.