Sick kids and the single parent
No, I’m not technically a single parent. Legally I am married, but until my Gunny retires from the USMC in 2014, for practical purposes I am a single parent.
This has its benefits, believe it or not. For one thing all the rules are MY rules. There’s no going to the Appellate Court of Dad if you don’t get the decision you want, and no playing one against the other to get your way.
And I signed up for this. I wouldn’t trade the man I adore and who loves me because of my quirks and not in spite of them for 10 million dollars and a Clooney lookalike to play househusband. Really.
But there are days –and you’re probably guessing that today was one of them– that sleeping with a rifle and wiping my ass with sand while dodging IEDs sounds like Club frickin Med.
I was home with TWO sick daughters today. The fifteen year old isn’t much trouble. She only required some cough medicine, some toast and sympathy. The little one though? I came close to putting her up for adoption.
When you’ve got a febrile, clingy, whiney and snot-drippy toddler at home, that’s when you can really use an extra set of hands.
The beastling is finally asleep, and her sweaty blonde dandelion fluff head is resting on my arm and I could almost disintegrate from loving her so much.
But DAMN. I hope she’s better tomorrow .
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