My husband took the kids to his parents' home this weekend, and I stayed home so I could "get some rest", "get some things done". Well, you know how that goes with a newborn....At least the toys are staying exactly where I put them, and I am sleeping every time Char does.
I went out to dinner last night with a friend. Charlotte screamed the entire time. Fortunately, it was a loud restaurant anyway. On the way home, I stopped to get gas and somehow managed to pour gasoline all down the entire right side of my body. Baby was screaming in the car and I sort of just stood there and waited for some of the residue to evaporate off of me, all the time wondering how I was going to drive home without poisoning my baby with toxic fumes. I dabbed at my body with exactly two wet wipes, closed the door, rolled down the windows, and drove as fast as I could. Got home at 9:15 pm only to find I had locked myself out of the house. I left Charlotte screaming on the porch while I called my husband who instructed me to "go get the ladder and crawl through a window". I obeyed dutifully, but it was truly an out of body experience for me. I was watching myself scale the heights of my house while I luckily pried open the screen, then window. Then, sort of jumping (in flip-flops), managed to teeter on the edge of the sill and plop-landed in a heap on the floor. It never felt so good to sleep in my own bed.
My husband texted me a half-hour later to remind me to put the ladder back near the shed. I just laughed because what woman in her right mind would leave a ladder propped up against the house to invite all weirdos in? Thanks, honey. I know you're looking out for me.
On the more "normal" nights, this is what we're up to after bath time:
