An experiment in single parenting. It's not pretty.

I totally know how he feels

The Mister is out of town.  He's in Utah on non-Mormon related business.  Books and stuff.  This means that I am alone with the twins for five days.  I won't lie.  It's been hard.  Like, soggy-rice-chex-hardening-on-the-kitchen-table hard.  Like, no-time-to-shower hard.  It's even been grab-your-kid's-arm-just-a-little-too-hard hard.  I know, I'm a wimp.  All hail to the single parents of the world.  Truly.  I've never been more appreciate of the Mister's contributions around here than I am right now. I miss him.

Here's a scene from our little experiment:

This happened last night after the burrito battle, and the bath battle, and the one-more-story battle, and the light-on-a-little-more battle.  The kids are in bed.  The door is closed.  I can finally do something fun, like clean up the huge mound of dishes.  

And then I hear it, the potty pleading.

So I get them up, and walk them in to the bathroom, and take off the complicated footsie p.j.s, and undo the nighttime diapers. 

OLIVER (sitting on the potty and looking thoughtful): Mommy, are you happy?

ME (astonished and sort of not that happy): Yes, honey.  I am happy.

OLIVER: But, are we driving you up the wall?

ME: Not anymore.  But you were earlier.

OLIVER (gazing philosophically into the middle distance): Yeah.

A thing I like

This thought from George Bernard Shaw:

"This is the true joy in life, the being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one; being thoroughly worn out before you are thrown on the scrap heap; being a force of nature in stead of a feverish, selfish little clod of ailments and grievances complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy." 

Kind of harsh, I know.  But a good one to keep in mind.