Three weeks ago my darling beloved husband left on a business trip. To India. For Two Weeks. And by God when he returned some of my first words to him were wow, you are NEVER doing THAT again. At least, not with a 4.5 year old and a 4 month old. Which is of course not a threat at all given next time he'll be away I'll have a 4.5+ year old and a five month old which is a world of difference.
Apparently this morning someone has found the italics key.
Anyway. So it was two weeks of combo solo parenting (six days, only two partial daycare days in there) parenting with my mom (five days) and parenting with The Man's parents (five days). I'd say parenting with my parents but my father was dealing with some stuff and doing his very best grumpy old man impression that he was hardly there and frankly we were better off for it since the few times he was around he a.) yelled at my four year old for putting his fingers through an already broken screen door b.) yelled at my four year old for closing a door, and c.) once told him to "stop whining! Be a man!" which pretty much made me crazy. I mean, I realize that my four year old whines more than is necessary and was going through an especially whiney phase then but he's also FOUR and I think the "be a man!" epithet really isn't going to bear much weight for another, I don't know, DECADE or so.
So. Not the best week for Dad.
The week with my in-laws went ok as well, but this time I started feeling crowded in my space rather than relieved by their presence, which I know is a sign that next business trip I am going to mostly go it alone and not ask them to drive from the neighboring province. I like them a lot, and I value the time to get to know them and for my children to spend time with them, but the week had enough moments of crazy that I think the getting-to-know time is best reserved for holidays. However I must admit that I love the fact that my windows were all washed (inside and out!) and my sink was repaired and toilet plumbed and my floors washed by hand (twice!) and my holes in the wall covered and the wall paper removed from my bathroom and my crown molding filled in. My father-in-law, he of the constant-head-pain-bad-heart-bad-knees-bad-ankles, he hates to be bored. And then tells me how bad he feels that he can't work as hard as he used to. I get tired just watching him. He is all kinds of awesome.
Let's see, what else is new?
I am both relieved and sad to see the beginning of fall -- relieved because my chubby baby didn't handle heat well (and neither would you if you were covered in insulation like she is. We don't call it fat around here!) and sad because wow -- where did the summer go? We had a nice one, good for Vancouver, but ... short. Very short. And in a very sunrise-sunset type of dealio I am very aware of the passage of time and mah baybee she is so old! And I will never have another! kind of thing. Which is true, she is so big and my leave is 1/3 gone already and I am still just so damn tired and shouldn't I be at the very least catching up on sleep by now?!
Apparently scratch that whole "my baby is so old stuff", as my biggest concern is "WHY AM I NOT MORE RESTED?"
At the doctor's yesterday she asked how I was doing and I think I said "I'm tired" about three times at which she barely batted an eye and merely said "it's a good thing this one is easier, make sure you sit down more" and waved away my "shouldn't I be stimulating her cerebral growth?" concern. Sit down and rest. Which is advice I can get behind and all, if only my daughter can. When I complain about the tiredness and tell the doctor I think I should be less tired she looks at me like I am crazy and tells me again that I have two children, one of which is still up in the night. Why I think I should be running marathons is rather beyond me.
The only other thing of barely important note is that I yet again went out today and bought socks for my four year old. Where on earth to little boy socks disappear to? I have hardly ever had to buy clothes for him with all the hand-me-downs but we have spent a fortune in SOCKS.
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