My husband was at work this past weekend for a four day trip back to his Guard unit, which usually causes me a fair amount of stress, anxiety, and overwhelm.
But thanks to the 45-day deployment, I didn't even bat an eyelash.
Yep, a super long stretch of parenting alone makes four days with the kids like a Hawaiian vacation.
Okay, so the only thing similar to four days alone with kids and a Hawaiian vacation was the fair amount of rum I consumed, made evident by the video I filmed earlier this week.
It's a combination of getting a few date nights with my husband, a few mornings a week to run errands alone and even take in a fitness class (I still have massive bruises people. Still.), and to get out with a friend to get a chance to hug a blog idol as she took a break from signing books for OVER SIX FREAKING HOURS to pee that's actually allowed me to enjoy the time alone with my kids.
Okay, that's a bit of a stretch.
I'm not sure if I'm blissful at the thought of parenting alone. I'm definitely a way better parent when I've got someone there to pick up the slack for me. And it would be freaking fantastic if Margot would sleep longer than 2-3 hours in a row at night.
(Sleep training, night weaning, and transition to actual crib and not a playpen in our walk-in closet to commence soonly).
(Cue "Coming out of a closet" jokes).
But I can actually almost appreciate the post-bath naked streaking through my house, heck, even an emptied sample bottle of baby oil that I only discovered because I discovered the trail of slick door knobs. And I didn't even think twice about taking them all food shopping at Super Target.
(Unofficial sponsors of my reasonably sane experience include massive amounts of free samples and Einstein Bagels).
So four days? Piece of cake.
Now the upcoming weekend with my in-laws visiting? Well that's a whole other story.