Piper has a bit of a cold, so we left her home with her daddy this morning while the rest of us went to playgroup. We had Valentines to distribute, and cupcakes in honor of Bridget's second birthday which was on Valentine's Day.
We came home without Reagan (another mommy is bringing him home) so that Daddy could go to work. Daddy is fabulous, and we love him. But this is what I came home to:
An uneaten lunch. Most of which was on the floor.
Piper asleep in Bridget's bed. Put to bed un-pottied. Soaking wet from peeing in her sleep. In BRIDGET's bed. Thus, I was unable to put Bridget down for her nap.
Dishes in the sink and on the desk.
The bed that I'd made disheveled.
Clothes on the floor.
It wasn't terrible or anything. I cleaned up lunch and the dishes, stripped the crib and put down a quilt for Bridget to sleep on, picked up the clothes and cleaned up. It was just discouraging.
This is not in the slightest, picking on my husband. Why not? Because he rocks. He's an amazing husband and father. I don't wish anything different, except that he didn't have to work so hard and so many hours to bring in the money we need to get by. Then he wouldn't be so tired that he had to leave his clothes on the floor, food out, and catch extra sleep any time he could. I wish he had more energy for a thousand reasons, the least of which are to assist me with housekeeping.
Yes, I get annoyed. But not with him so much as the situation that creates the problems. I wouldn't trade him for a bushel of ducks.
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