I thought my “drug” of choice would be wine, but turns out I’m turning into a chocolate girl. I blame my best friend who sent me a bag of truffles.
I’ve been eating one at the end of the day religiously. I can’t remember to take vitamin pills, but I don’t forget to eat my one chocolate.
Today was a two chocolate kind of day. And if I had any ice cream or cookies or brownies, I would have eaten those, too.
It wasn’t that Peanut was particularly bad most of the day. But she only slept 1 hour for her nap, early in the morning. That 11th hour became truly the witching hour.
When I called D at 6:30, hoping to hear that he was minutes from home and heard that he had only just gotten back to the school, I groaned. OMG, how am I going to last aother 45 minutes???
When he comes home in 35 minutes, I’m estactic, overjoyed until, yes that’s right, until I hear D saying he doesn’t feel good. Nauseous, in fact. D does not handle nausea well at all.
Mind you, this was a two chocolate kind of a day before the ill spouse. And not that I don’t feel bad for D, but this was the last day that I needed to do more. I would think that any stay at home parent would understand this feeling. Where you just don’t want to do one more thing like make his lunch, sweep the floor, was the dish and cup in the sink, take out the garbage…where you just want to sit for more than 5 minutes and enjoy you one freaking piece of chocolate.
I made the lunch, I swept the floor, I did the dishes, but I refuse to take out the garbage. REFUSE.
Oh, who am I kidding, I can’t stand to leave stinky garbage.
These 12-13 hour days are killing me. No matter how well most of the day goes, things always spiral downward in the last hour or two.
D says to me, “Only 13 more days like this left.” to comfort me. As you can imagine, it does not comfort me at all.