Yesterday, one of the super sucky realities of parenting arose. Single parenting, which I'm going to be doing half-time from here on in (Yes - this is my way of saying I am separated now. Yes, this is what I've been so cryptic about of late. No, I probably won't be talking about it other than this for awhile.), in particular.
I have, all week, been looking forward to sharing a special early Christmas celebration with my tots, my BFF and her family. We haven't seen lots of each other lately, and I miss her loads. You know how life gets.
And then, a mere hour before we are supposed to arrive at my friend's house, my Girlio starts acting weird. Weird, weird. Asking to go to bed kinda weird. Can anyone guess the problem??? If you guessed FEVER, you get a resounding ding-ding-ding-ding! Yup. Sick. Groaning, whimpering, crying, all-of-the-sudden-no-I-don't-want-a-party-I-want-to-go-to-bed kinda sick. And when one of my kids asks to go to bed, you know it's bad. I did not raise me some sleepers.
So - no party. No BFF. No Friday night fun for me. And because my BFF and I have chosen to leave town for the holidays on opposite schedules, we won't see each other for a whole other month. (Insert enormous pouty face here.)
It's selfish, I know, to bemoan one's lack of fun when one has a sick kid. But there it is. I am selfishly bemoaning my lack of Friday night fun. Because I'm no super mom.
And because I am profoundly, profoundly human.