Some days I feel like I’m cheating at this whole parenting gig. After all, I have a supportive partner who is a true partner, who has taken time off to raise these kids with me during his (part-time) paternity leave, who cooks the meals, washes dishes, mops the floors, and who is supportive of me in everything that I do. (Even blogging. Even blogging when I haven’t gotten anything else productive done that day, except cleaning up after ourselves and helping the children learn.)
Then again, some days I have a day like today, soloing though a messy playdate for eight (plus moms), lunch for four, constructing a rice construction site, working out the details of a birdseed find-a-thing bottle for next month’s playgroup craft, keeping the dog out of said rice, and catching up on the bills, all the while balancing a constantly attached infant (comfort nursing after his first vaccination and his first vomit yesterday) and a toddler learning to somersault (“sault! sault!”) … and I think …. ahhhhhh, not so much.
Little Bear gazing lovingly at Uncle Twinsdaddy. Who then got to go home to his fancy job and his nice suits. Nice suits … sans spit-up, even.