But I'm not bitter. Fortunately, BJ and I have a ton of family and friends who love us dearly, and it was truly a community effort that allowed BJ to spend six days in tropical paradise while I was home with the boys. To everyone that cooked us meals, helped me with the boys, and provided emotional support during a very busy week, thank you!
Remember my post about the night of the Grammys? Well, imagine that with just one parental figure instead of two. It really was pretty hectic. On Wednesday in particular I can assure you that I had not a single moment to myself the entire day, and that isn't a dramatization. I used the bathroom with a baby in one arm, showered with toddler noses pressed against the glass door, prepared lunch with a baby in a carrier, and crawled in between my sheets at the end of the day with a stubborn child who wouldn't fall asleep in his own bed. My quiet time before bed was spent on the couch in our bedroom watching a DVR'd episode of "Restaurant Impossible" with Georgie in my lap asking with each new camera shot, "Who is that? Who is that?" Um, George, it's just Robert Irvine over and over again, only from a different angle. Despite my lack of me-time that day, we did manage to tackle library story time, the dinosaur museum, and dinner at Grammy's house on the other side of town. I kind of rock. Well, at least that day I did.
Do bedtime routines take as long for everyone else as they do for me? Last night it took me two whole hours from start to finish, but at least I succeeded in getting them all down so that I could watch "Love It or List It" and consume unstated quantities of this
and maybe a little bit of this as well.
But don't worry. Eating isn't one of my coping mechanisms. Seriously, bath time for the older two boys began at 8:25, and by the time I had them bathed, lotioned, dressed in jam jams, teeth brushed, wind-down time, and books read in bed, and then bathed Van, got him in jam jams, fed him, and had him swaddled in his crib we're talking 10:20. Then it was time to finish cleaning, fold a couple loads of laundry, and make some Jello jigglers ready for cutting for the next day. THEN "Love It or List It" and copious amounts of food. Day after day was enough to drive this girl to rebel against adulthood and get one of these while BJ was gone.
I'd save this kind of stuff for therapy except that I'm the therapist. How scary is that?
I'm just kidding. I love my kids and we did fine. Plus I've wanted one of those piercings for about five years. But I will say my hat's off to all single parents all over this world. They must be on some kind of overload all the time. If I worked full-time, I would get approximately four hours of sleep a night, which is probably what single parents get. Welcome home, BJ!