Due to the placement of Drew's staples, the regular old diaper changes aren't the most comfortable thing in the world. Thus we have had to implement the complicated circus-act standing up diaper changes, made fairly simple with two people, but nearly impossible with just one.
That is unless I unleash the power of the lollipop. Apparently the whole world, including a tiny wiggling ass, stands still upon the crinkle of a lollipop wrapper.
Granted he'll probably have rotted teeth, but at least I won't be cleaning his shit up off the floor.
As it turns out, my illness was completely and totally induced by stress and exhaustion. After two full days of tylenol, tons of sleep, and just plain relaxation, I'm fine. My "tired mom flu" has disappeared, and with it comes a realization that I need to take it easy.
There are no expectations but my own to live up to. My husband has transformed himself into an understanding husband who comes home for a few days and works his ass off -- on the house and with the kids.
Sure, he still has asshole moments. We all have asshole moments. But his pleas for me to walk on a specific part of the carpet have turned from annoying to funny. His desire to mop the kitchen floor before even saying "hello" when he gets home is almost endearing.
And his look to me that says "I know this is hard and you're doing the best you can" is the best gift I could have ever gotten.
On Saturday night while we were out for my birthday dinner, Quinlan told the babysitter that she didn't want her daddy to leave again -- that she missed him when he was gone.
As my husband comes and goes for his brief weekend stays, and as the kids get older and wiser, they cling to him more tightly on his return, and verbalize their sadness more clearly upon his departure.
And lately, so do I -- and it's not just because I need the extra hand to change a diaper.
Like Quinlan says when he returns, "We're a whole family again." There's just something beautifully reassuring about the wholeness that I miss ever so desperately.