Love is a battlefield

Oy, am I glad last week is over. Registration is no fun for anyone.

This week I will be playing the role of single mother, while my husband lives it up in Vegas. Well, by living it up I mean attending a training conference 12 hours a day, but whatever--it's in Vegas. When I had a conference in Vegas, I took him with me. Just saying.

This morning I had to get both kids and myself ready and delivered to our respective morning locations. I was doing so good--I had laid out everyone's clothes the night before, even poured their breakfast drinks and put them in the fridge. I was prepared--to a point. How do you prepare, though, for a one year old covered head (and hair) to toe in the strawberry filling from his breakfast bar, especially when said one year old has a furious and violent reaction to any activity that is related to being cleaned? How do you prepare for getting trapped in a line of cars outside the day care behind a Yukon, whose driver is yakking inside while her vehicle blocks the ONLY way out of the parking lot? Oh well. The things we do for love.

I actually think it's good for me for Matt to be gone this week. I make no secret of the fact that I think he is frequently a better parent than me. There's no parental task that he refuses to do--on the contrary, he firmly believes that he and I are equally responsible for taking care of our kids. Thank goodness! I know plenty of women who have husbands who refuse to change a diaper, or who have no idea how to get their child to stop crying, or have never taken their son or daughter to the doctor.

Every relationship sets its own rules, but I am very grateful that Matt wants to be right there with me, doing all the things you do when you're a parent. So I guess 5 days without him won't kill me. There may be war wounds, though, if that Yukon is in my way again tomorrow.