A day without a dad...

Ok, I realize that it is as late as it could possibly get and still be "this week," but it still is, so I am good on the resolution of once a week--by the way, once a week to me means one Sunday through Saturday, not necessarily 7 days.  Hey, I'm a work in progress.  

I have decided that I would be a horrible single mom.  D is out of town this weekend, and the last two days have been the longest of my life.  I didn't really notice it until 5:00 pm yesterday when I normally would have gotten a call from D to let me know he was on his way home.  I didn't hear from him until much later, nor did I hear from him most of the day, which is not normal for us.  It was at that point that I realized that is how I get Fuss settled from his afternoon fit.  I tell him, "Daddy is on his way!" and he gets excited and runs to the door as soon as he hears the key in it.  He really loves it when his daddy comes home, and frankly, so do I!  Last night my Fuss delved further into his terrible twos phase with nonstop tantrums ranging from what pajamas he wanted to wear, what he did not want to eat for dinner, and whether or not I am allowed to put things away that belong in the basement without hauling Fuss along for the 15 stairs up and down.  He did go to bed good, until 11:10 pm, at which time he decided he couldn't sleep unless I was holding him in my arms.  

The terrible twos continued for my not-quite-two-year-old this morning beginning at 4:05 am when he decided that he needed a "ba" and I had to go to the kitchen to get him a sippy of milk to stop the constant screeching "moooommmmm" (this must be said while imitating a dying, high-pitched parrot).  Then at 5:45 I was not allowed to use the restroom without sobbing and hollering of my name again, only this time it was just the saddest little cry you have ever heard, like he was afraid I was never coming back, which by this point I was considering.  I missed my D more than ever, keeping in mind that I am only relaying the major moments, about every 15 minutes we had some sort of a breakdown throughout the majority of the night.  

To enhance a wonderful weekend, I decided that it would be fun for Fuss and I to drive the 50 miles to my parents' house for a visit.  I strategically planned this so that Fuss would miss his nap.  Okay, I really thought that he would fall asleep in the car, which would give him an hour nap and that would get us through the majority of the day.  Of course, it didn't quite happen that way.  Fuss didn't fall asleep until the last 20 minutes of the drive, which does not constitute a long enough nap for a 20-month-old terror.  Fit after fit occurred, starting with suddenly being afraid of my parents' miniature poodle, one of the few dogs that no one should be afraid of, to fighting with me over whose Pepsi I brought back with me from picking up lunch, mine or his.  I think he won that one since he drank almost the entire thing while I was doing other things.

The clincher that made me know for sure that I could never be a single parent was when I agreed to a public exhibit of dining in a restaurant with several members of my family.  It started with Fuss' refusal to sit in a highchair.  This was followed by the climbing of the bench and glass that separated us from the people on the bench behind us.  He then slid to the floor under the table, made his way through the maze of legs, over the front bar of the highchair at the head of the table that he should have been sitting in, under the highchair, over the bar on the back, which was waist high to him, and off to wave to his new friends in person.  He walked down one row of tables making sure to touch the back of every chair he passed.  Then he walked through the main walkway of the restaurant stopping to wave to the people at each table.  When our food came and I forced him to sit down by me to eat, he broke into a sobbing fit!  You would have thought that I ordered him asparagus and spinach instead of grilled cheese and fries!  It was bad enough that I immediately asked for boxes and the check and took my terror home.

The hardest part of the day though, was when I was trying to get Fuss to extend his nap and took him into the extra bedroom at my parents' house to lay down and hopefully fall asleep.  He was whimpering and refused to settle in, so I suggested that we call daddy.  When D answered his phone, I put it on speaker phone.  As soon as Fuss heard his daddy's voice, he took the phone from my hand and started to kiss the screen.  He got a huge grin on his face, and kept smiling and kissing until D said goodbye.  At that point, Fuss took my cell phone and held it tightly to his chest in a hug.  He pulled it out every once in a while to look at the screen, and then hugged it to his chest again.  When I tried to take the phone away, he held it tighter and refused to let me have it.  He finally fell asleep holding onto his daddy's voice.  Good thing Daddy comes home tomorrow!