Parent of Two

This last weekend in our latest attempt at improving our legal status here, Andrew went to visit Nate and Claudia in Cambridge. Andrew went. I did not, nor did either of our little darlings. That meant I got a little taste of the single parent/multiple children flavor of life. I thought I would be exhausted. I didn't know when or how things like showers would happen. I was looking forward to losing several pounds because of my lack of time and energy to actually eat. I figured I would be crashing into bed nightly as soon as the boys were down because I didn't have the energy to do anything else except for the pedicure I'd been hoping to get done. I had so many expectations for the weekend and felt more than a little trepidation-- although it should be noted I fully supported Andrew leaving and even felt like I pushed him into it a bit.

What happened and what didn't? Showers turned into baths taken while O "watched" Thomas the Tank Engine (I can't really say O watched the TV since his version of doing so is more like standing by the bathtub and making me play with plastic boats while shaving my legs but at least he wasn't hiding in the shower curtain while I tried to shower). I didn't really eat except for when friends graciously invited me over for lunch or I broke down and tried to fancy up some frozen pizza with a bottle of Perrier and arugula. I stayed up until 1, 2, and 3am in an effort to get a few things done. None of those things were a pedicure, however. And I think I had at least one moment every day of complete and utter breakdown-- but they were just moments.

But most of all what happened is I remembered how much I genuinely love my boys and how lucky I am to have a job that can completely exhaust me but also completely fulfill me. On one of the days I was in the kitchen cleaning while O w

as drawing. I heard him start to get frustrated and came in to see what was wrong. He was sitting with his paper on S's lap trying to push a marker into S's hand so they could draw together. After trying to explain that S couldn't draw yet, which O was not accepting as plausible, I placed the marker in S's hand and helped him do a few little scratches. It was one of those moments I wanted to melt into forever with my boys.

And as a bonus in this post-- here's a photo of S I took while trying to get him to wake up. Seriously took twenty of these with the flash right in his face and didn't even get so much as an eyebrow twitch.