Worst parenting week, nay, family week ever.
Rivals the Great Gall Bladder Scenario of ’98, during which I nursed a two-month old whilst experiencing brain-numbing pain throughout my body, was perhaps even at risk of death, and my husband went to work.
He has since made up for that, though. (See: Great Salmonella Outbreak of Ought-Six)
Parenting is harder, now. More emotional, more tricky. “This is a marathon” said my husband this morning, and he’s right. Babyhood and toddlerdom are like a sprint: you are exhausted, can’t catch a breath. These days, I have time to breathe all right, but we never, ever stop running.
On the plus side, we found a good used car with all our caveats (good MPG, AWD, V6, cheap as hell). Damn, though, it’s white. No offense to you white-car drivers out there, but I think they look like belugas. Dearest 1995 Mazda 626, we will miss you....we kissed your bent, rusted antenna goodbye and trust you will find some happiness, somewhere. (As a side note, we found approximately 73 black Bic pens in the side pockets. My children counted, so do not doubt that high number!)