I did it. I survived. 13 days of solo parenting has come to an end. (Actually it came to an end 2 days ago but the whole experience has been too raw to talk about until now. I’ve also been making sweet, sweet love to my bed for about 48 hours).
Now, watching the post-game press conferences for the Stanley Cup Finals, NBA Finals and the US Open*, I’m reminded how important it is thank those closest to you after a victory. Especially when you’ve triumphed over adversity and beaten the odds, as I clearly have.
So here are the people and things (I’m talking to you, corkscrew) who helped along the way:
First and foremost: Daren. Not just for getting his ass home (we’ll overlook the lack of duty free booze for now), but for working so hard for our family. It sounds glorious (really, REALLY glorious) to be away for days on end but I know it was hard, especially with so much going on at home. I often tease Daren about how “tough” it must be to watch hockey for a living. It’s not easy to live in hotels, sleep alone in king size beds, eat at nice restaurants, visit New York and LA. Those things really take their toll on a person. Not to mention the …. wait, what was I saying?
A close second, if we’re keeping score (which you should NEVER do in a marriage, even if you are the one who took out the recycling the last 6 times) is everyone who has ever encouraged me to document our family adventures. Even if you just read the first one post, got the gist, then pretended you read them all, thank you. It’s been a blast and it will continue.
Third, my beautiful, fun, spirited, crazy, adorable and amazing girls.
And thanks to Leila and Harmony as well.
These angels endured 13 days of wake up, go to school, make a terrible craft project, get yelled at, eat mac and cheese, watch mommy drink wine, get yelled at again, go to sleep, repeat. And they still seem to love me. I don’t care what Daren says, kids ARE amazing!!
And then there’s my mom, who called almost every day under the auspices of chatting with her grandchildren when we all know she was carefully assessing the situation, like Bruce Willlis in “Hostage” (except not with a penis). Like my bathing suit and my yoga instructor, mom did not judge. Just kind, soothing words and reminders as to where the emergency numbers are located on my fridge. Thanks mom!
Lastly, I would REALLY like to thank my single-mom friends who somehow resisted the urge to get in their cars, drive over here and PUNCH ME IN THE FACE for all my incessant whining. You ladies have always had my respect and admiration, and now you have my tears (and also my Xanax, if you’d like).
Honourable “thank you” mentions go to:
Wine, who I love with all my heart in a non-sexual way (most days).
The dogs, who got just three walks in 13 days (two of which were to the end of the driveway).
The guys renovating our basement, who worked a solid 11 hours in 13 days. Way to go guys.
Netflix, because you complete me.
And finally, coffee, for giving me something to do before wine o’clock.
I’ll leave you with a shot of the parade they held for me today in LA. So thoughtful.
*HAHAHA. Me watch golf. That’s hilarious.