Worst Week Ever.

OK...so in the whole scheme of things it was not the worst week ever. But it certainly wasn't the best.

Erik was away this week so it was just the girls. I had visions of doing fun girl stuff together, letting her sleep in my bed, playing, etc. etc. etc. But...when you work 8-5 the harsh reality is, you barely have enough time to do what needs to be done, let alone braid each others hair (like I can braid hair - ok, maybe a regular braid, but don't even bother asking for a french braid. That is Aunt Jen's department).

So the week went more like this:

Wake up early Monday because we have to take Erik to drop off his truck, then Maggie at daycare, then Erik at work so I get to work 20 minutes late. Have incredibly busy day at work and leave at 5:01 to get Maggie. She's not used to being at daycare that late so of course I am stressed about it all day. I show up at 5:15 and she could care less that she's been there an hour longer than usual. I watch her through the window before going in just to see how she plays. She picked up a baby doll and so sweetly laid her on the table as if she was going to change her diaper, hugged her and rocked her. I walked in and she throws the baby on the floor and yells "bye bye ba-by" and runs to me. Sweet...domestic abuse at its finest.

Tuesday - this is going to be a good day. I have a work dinner with a good group, Aunt Jen is babysitting. Yes, I have 3 short nights with Maggie alone and I get a babysitter. What can I say? Dinner went well, Maggie and Aunt Jen had a great night together, she's sleeping when I get home so I go to bed early. Everything goes well until midnight when chaos ensues. The cough is back and with a vengeance. She is coughing so violently she throws up. So since I was not around for dinner, she made sure that I could see (and wear) what she had. Oh, I see Aunt Jen gave you fish sticks tonight. Great.

Of course this all happens right after I read an article in Parents magazine about how a toddler rarely throws up only once. So of course I am waiting for the other shoe to drop...all...night...long. And very little sleep was had. To top it off, Maggie (who NEVER wakes up before 7 when Erik is home) wakes up at 6 AM the next morning, the time when I usually get in the shower. So now I get to entertain while I get ready...did I mention I had very little sleep? This is going to be a great day.

Oh and it was. I won't go into boring work stuff because this is not about me (who are we kidding?) but suffice it to say Wednesday was my busiest work day ever. Get through that, pick up Maggie at 5:15 to find her wearing a fireman's coat strutting around the classroom like it's no big deal. This has to be the best part of the day, to catch her in a moment when she doesn't know I'm watching.

Rather than going into more poor me, I will just summarize the point of this post. I admire single working moms so much it's not funny. How they do it and still have any ounce of sanity left is beyond me, but they deserve medals and trophies and cakes and cookies and everything that is good in the world because I stepped into those shoes for 3 short days and think I might have to hibernate for a week just to catch up.

Now excuse me while I go pray to the sleep gods...we really need a full night tonight...please?