hubs left me again. but he came back. he always comes back. i didn't blog about it because, hello, this is a public site and any of you crazy people could come find me. yeah, people who are related to me, i'm talking to you. don't think i'm not afraid of your brain-fevered plots now that i know most of you are up at all hours.
for the record, hubs was worried i couldn't handle two children on my own. and also let the record show that i can. for exactly 5 days and not one hour more.
when changing Little's diaper i find it useful to refer often to the kubler-ross stages of grief, which are suprisingly relevant:
1. denial (me: did you poop? Little: no)
2. anger (hers, mostly, because i have such a good nose. but really, you'd hardly need one)
3. bargaining (will bribery with food resign my girl to a lifetime of weight obsession? more importantly, will it increase the number of poopy diapers i have to change?)
5. acceptance (such as it is. i usually have to straddle her and have all four limbs firmly pinned to the ground before she gives in. and suddenly she acts like we're friends)
single parents, please put me on your speed dial, because i am ready and willing to come to your house and help you any day of the week.
together again. i can't stop smiling.