These past few days have been trying at best. I have officially ended this week with glass in my foot, bugs in my cereal, a bite of curdled yogurt, a broken vaccum cleaner and a beautiful new BOB Jogger in the garage. (Guess which one was actually a welcomed surprise?)

This same time each year, I compose some gloomy abreaction documenting my despair and loneliness as the wife of an accountant. Each year I acknowledge my own shameless (and yet still shameful) flair for melodrama and own up to the fact that I'm well aware life could very well be worse than it is. If there is something I hadn't considered while writing these woe is me lonely-wife entries, it is that one morning I would be holding back tears as I carried my 9 1/2 month old little boy out the door for our morning Stroller Strides class while he cried out dada! dada! dada! as tears poured down his cheeks, his arms outstretched towards my bedroom where his dada was getting ready for work. If there's another thing I didn't think about, it would be that the same 9 1/2 month old little boy would fight sleep until he couldn't possibly stand it anymore in hopes he could catch a glimpse of his daddy. (He never made it that far. Heck, I almost never made it that far.)

It's been difficult for both of us and, of course, difficult for my husband who is the one working insane, laborious hours and missing out on the good times with Ethan. And those good times? You better believe I've been working overtime at ensuring this kid is smiling up until the moment he goes to sleep. It's been exhausting and I've been eating popcorn for two out of three meals a day on the regular without even thinking twice about it, but it's one of those things you just have to trudge through.

On Thursday, I took Ethan to an outlet mall a half an hour away. The trip was supposed to be quick: in and out, easy peasy, grabbing some great deals (because my son is suddenly in 18 month clothing and has virtually no pants that fit) and heading home. Instead, we loitered for 4 1/2 hours and I don't think either one of us stopped laughing the entire time. We stopped at nearly every photobooth we passed, we picked him up some adorable t-shirts at the GAP Baby outlet for just two dollars a piece and we had a lunchdate at Rainforest Cafe. It was the best lunch date I could imagine having with just about anyone. (I mean, not all lunch dates would roaaaaaar! back at the tigers.) We were both in proverbial stitches as we laughed, laughed, laughed until the waitress brought the check.

We stopped into our final photobooth outside of the Rainforest Cafe and took one very, very sleepy last photograph before making the drive home, singing Regina Spektor the entire time until my backseat passenger was sound asleep.

And so the week fades into a very welcomed weekend. The exhaustion rings in my ears and stings at my eyes. There is a sweet little boy who is roaring back at the tigers in his dreams and I am watching both him and the clock in disbelief. The clock, as I can't believe it's only nine o'clock and him, because I cannot believe what a flawless, beautiful little person he is. I stand in awe of him. In awe at the way he roars back at the tigers, in awe of the way he rejuvenates my soul with shared smiles under the fort we've built (and failed at) with my comforter.

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  1. sounds like you are making it through with as positive an attitude as possible. good job :) and i remember sawgrass mall....i must laugh at the fact that you thought you could be in and out of there!! my clearest memory of that place is leaving exhausted with aching legs! hahahaha

    1. Hahahaha -- TOTALLY TRUE. It's a workout walking that crazy mall -- and dodging the crowds of people as you go, too!


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