Is it Monday already? As a SAHM, there’s normally not a huge difference between weekdays
and weekends for me, although it is nice to have Hubs home all day.
Hubs and Quinn
get to spend some time together while I get things done or go to the gym. And I
could get used to having another adult around to help make breakfast and empty
the dishwasher in the morning.
But a mom is a mom everyday of the week, so I barely recall
the anticipation leading up to Friday or the dread leading up to Monday from my
Corporate Job days.
Today is a different kind of Monday because Hubs has to
leave on another business trip.
Just a short one this time, thankfully, but long enough that Q will really miss
him. And I will, too. Q and I made him a card and Quinn drew a picture, and we
hid it inside Daddy’s suitcase. (I wonder if he’s found it yet…)
No need to worry about us though. Q and I have become
experts at holding down the fort,
adjusting our routine slightly so I can get everything done and still give him
the extra attention and reassurance he needs when his Daddy isn’t here. It’s
not perfect, but we make it work. And this week, I will definitely look forward
to Friday and Hubs’ safe return.
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| Q crammed into the buggy after Christmas |
Quinn and Hubs spent a lot of time together this weekend before Hubs' departure, and they went for a ride in Q’s new buggy that he got
for Christmas. This is only
the second time Q’s ridden in it. The first time we took it out was after
Christmas. Q was so excited! Then we quickly realized that we should have
bought him this thing a year earlier. His feet are too big for the foot rests
and his knees touch the steering wheel! Whoops. But Q wanted to ride in it on
Sunday, so he and Hubs went for a ride down to the elementary school so Q could
play on the playground. I think Q likes to push the buggy more than ride in it.
Speaking of Quinn growing too fast, we recently had to get
him a whole new wardrobe,
including bigger socks. Even though I wash his new socks inside out, he still
manages to get some pretty gnarly sock fuzz between his toes every night. Quinn’s
sudden fascination with the sock fuzz is now a borderline obsession. He can’t
wait to get his clothes off at night. He sits down on the step stool in the
bathroom, puts one foot on the other knee, and spreads his toes with his
fingers so he can get a good look. Then we both yell, “Sock fuzz! Ewwww!” and Q
laughs like it’s the funniest thing ever.
After carefully examining both feet, he runs over to the
tub. He shakes with excitement as I lift him up and put his toes in the warm water,
and we watch the sock fuzz escape the confinement of Q’s toes and float freely
in the bath water. “Sock fuzz floating!” he exclaims. “Mommy scoop it?”
Yes, this is the part of the bath where we make a game of
scooping the sock fuzz out of the water with a plastic bowl. “When you see sock
fuzz, say ‘SOCK FUZZ!’” Q points to a piece floating around, and I try to catch
it in the bowl and dump it in the sink. Q thinks this is a riot.
I may never understand boys.
Just when I thought life couldn’t get more glamorous.
