13.) Another hug and kiss.

14.) It's his birthday.

Go to bed!!!!!!!

12.) He wants to know if his head is bleeding. (It's not. It has no reason to bleed.)

Go To Sleep!

Reasons that Leo has given for why he is out of bed tonight (so far): 

1.) He needs a hug and a kiss (x4)

2.) He needs his nails painted.

3.) He found a bottle of nail polish and spilled it in his bed.

4.) He pooped.

5.) He wants to know how a pen works.

6.) He thinks he might vomit in two minutes.

7.) He wants to refill my water cup.

8.) He forgot to put ice in my water.

9.) Patrick said it was ok.

10.) He wants to watch a movie.

11.) He's too tired for bed.

He's been "tucked in" for just over an hour now. It's been his most productive hour today, hands down.

There is no need to double-check the web address or blink repeatedly.  You're not imagining things.  This is an actual blog update.  A real one.  From me.  And I'm sorry that it's been as long as it has (and, not to offer excuses, but it's been hard to find the time to sit down and write something out the past several weeks.)

It's busy at the Waldens.  And I don't mean the "whew-I-wish-I-had-time-for-my-yoga-classes" busy, but a "shit-how-am-I-going-to-make-it-to-the-store-for-food?" kind of busy.  With Adam in full travel mode, the boys and I spend a lot of time on our own.  I've said it before, and I will said it again--I give single mothers more credit than I can verbalize--these shenanigans are not easy.  I had every intention of updating last night, but if we're Facebook friends, you probably read about the poop incident and, frankly, I was in no mood to post anything remotely positive after that.  Not even close.  In fact, I lost my shit so badly that I had to fight the urge to apologize.  (Now, some of you might be thinking that, had I really lost my shit, I should have apologized.  Let me remind you that this was concerning Leo and he's three.  He's also a tiny bull and tests his limits like no child I have ever known.  An apology to Leo at this point would be read as my weakness and I can't afford for Leo to think I'm weak.  He'll run this show if he senses any weakness or fear.  He's like a bee.  Or a rabid dog.  He can smell it.)

So, today is a better day.  The sun is shining, the birds are singing, it's hotter than Hades (at least, it is if you are 7 months pregnant), my skin is a glorious shade of red and quite painful (thanks to yesterday's activities) and it's the first day of summer!  So far, we're off to a good start. 

This summer, the kids are 5, 3, and 1 (20 months to date.)  They are as mouthy as they are fun, and, I have to admit, at the end of the day, I can't get enough of their little tan lines at the tops of their swimming trunks.  We're now in our fourth month at our new house.  Progress on the inside has slowed down, but I imagine we'll regain momentum after the new baby gets here.  In the meantime, we're busy exploring all of the great things this fine small town has to offer.  Moving here was great for our family.  Admittedly, I moved here because Adam wanted to.  He knows that now, but, now that we're here, I'm really quite happy.  We have so much to do!  The beach is not but a mile or so away.  Our neighborhood has a pool (including a fenced-in baby pool), tennis courts, a basketball court, and a playground.  Mini-golf, a splash pad, a carousel, and skateboard park are five minutes away.  We have frozen custard down the street.  The free outdoor movies and concerts and street fairs and markets are countless.  I cannot vouch for winter, but the summer here is pretty awesome.  I'm happy.

Unfortunately, with all of the fun things this little town has to offer comes the understanding that we'll do them without Adam.  Which is sad, in a way.  I don't like that he has to miss out on fun summers with us.  Last summer was the same story.  And, again, I find it harder and harder not to be resentful when he's gone all week.  It's not his fault.  It's his job.  After all, it's the only reason we're able to get by without any childcare for (almost) four kids.  It's how things work around here.  But it's not easy.  When he's home, I'm working.  When he's gone, I'm at home.  We're really not home much together and, when we are, we're so focused on trying to accomplish tasks that the fact that we could actually spend time together escapes us.  Last night, after the aforementioned poop incident, I cried in the bath tub.  I felt like a failure.  I called Adam, who answered right away.  I started to tell him the story, when we were interrupted by a knock on his hotel room door.  "Is that room service?" I said.  Pause.  "Yes," said Adam.  "What did you get?"  Longer pause.  "A ribeye.  It's probably not even all that great."  But I'm sure it was, and my heart sank a little.  I know he's off working, but a part of me is envious of his hotel stays, his long showers by himself, the silence in his room as he falls asleep, watching whatever he wants on TV.  He gets ribeye and I get...well, mac & cheese and turkey sandwiches.  It's not all bad, but it's not as fancy as what he has going on.  By comparison, my life is unorganized and chaotic (despite my best efforts to make it less than it is.)  It's good, though, and I know he misses us, too.  Of course he does.  He sounds a little homesick every time he's gone. 

And, one day, we'll look back on this and vaguely remember how we pulled it off.  We'll laugh about it and take a little more time for each other.  And it won't always be so hard.  Right?  Right.  Because that's just how life works.  At least, it does according to me.  And, perhaps the delusion of being the only one in charge almost always has gotten the best of me, but I run this show. 

I super-suck at the blog posts lately and I absolutely plan on a proper one this week, but I just have to jot this down while I am thinking of it:

If there is one thing I wish I could bottle up right now, it's the feeling of sweet baby rolling around in my belly, especially in the quiet hours of morning and night. As I lay in bed in the dark, I can see the silhouette of my belly contorting; I can feel tiny parts jabbing this way and that. This baby isn't much of a mover, so I have to relish in it while I can. Forget the nausea, the heartburn, the mood swings, the cravings...this is what makes this all so enjoyable. Well, that and the nice-smelling little bundle you get at the end. That part isn't shabby, either.

We'll chat soon.