I will survive

6:390 PM:

Me: Where are you

Husband: Van Dorn. About 10 minutes to Franconia and then from there (he's on the metro).

Me: Not going well as you can here (we are trying to talk over a banshee). See you when you get here.

This all translates into GET YOUR ASS HOME NOW!

Back up to 5:50 PM:

Dinner started out fine. Right up until I put Little Man in his booster and he made moves like he wanted to sit in my lap. Um, yeah, NO. I want to eat my dinner too. I ate my dinner. He screamed. I cleared my plate, emptied the dishwasher and reloaded. He screamed. Talking, distracting, you name it, I tried it.

Let's just say that it culminated into a full-throttle, launching body to floor, kicking feet and screaming at top of his lungs tantrum. I walked out of the room. He calmed. I came back. He resumed his tantrum. Repeat. I ended up at the front door watching for my husband and keeping an eye on Little Man out of the corner of my eye to make sure he didn't do anything foolish.

My neighbors were outside chatting. My husband walked up the front stairs. I held the door opened for him. "He's all yours" and out I went to hang with the neighbors.

They welcomed me with open arms. They were standing outside placing bets on how long it would take me to walk out of the house. They made me laugh. My husband dealt with my tiny banshee.

Banshee went to bed only having 2 sticks of cheese for dinner (I forgot to tell my husband he'd already had one stick and told him no on the 2nd until he ate dinner which helped in the above culmination).

I kicked myself. Slammed my head against the pavement. Questioned and 2nd guessed myself.

Then I had a beer. Listened some more to the nightmare stories from my neighbors (their kids are hitting the preteens) and began to joke about what a horrible mom I was (and apparently horrible wife too as my husband had no dinner ready for him when he got home).

I'll survive. Little Man will survive.

He will also wake up at 3 AM and demand breakfast - pancakes, cheese, bacon, cheese,sausage, biscuits, waffles, grapes, and of course, cheese.

I was very excited for Friday to arrive. Can't say I have the same warm and fuzzy about Saturday.

Oh Ms. Gaynor - give me strength!