Dave has been in China since last week. And while the baby lulled me into complacency the first few nights, last night she had some personal issues she needed help dealing with from about 1:34am until approximately 4:07am. Tell me how I’m ever supposed to want a newborn again?
So I’m tired. And I’m lonely. And I’m sick of the month of October for all the solo-parenting it has asked me to do. I don’t mind saying that I’m pretty kick-ass as being the baby’s mother, but I also don’t mind saying I’m ready to do it with some back-up because this shiz is hard. I need my partner, my best friend. The only person who I can ask to clean up the sticky food and stinky butt for a few days without feeling guilty because, well, it’s his baby too.
So instead of the rocking running song I had planned for today, I’m reverting to one of the go-to Powderfinger tunes that Dave and I obsessed over back in the early 2000’s when we were long distance. The days when our love was new and our flair for the dramatic was peaking. Can’t wait for tomorrow at 6pm.
My happiness is slowly creeping back now you’re at home…