Where the Wild Things Are (My House)

Day eight of my eleven-day stint as a single mom is finally coming to a close. We knew when we had Samson that Max would have to travel some of the time for work, but this trip is really getting tough to handle. I don't mean to hit below the belt--Max really doesn't travel all that much, and he works so hard for our family, and it's important that I remember this when Samson is chasing the cat, wielding an ice cream scoop, he only napped for 45 minutes, and the cavalry's not coming for three more days.

Sigh.

As with every other stage of his development that come and gone int he last 17 months, I will miss this curly-haired demon, this emptier or kitchen drawers and chaser of house pets. He's discovering how fast and far his feet can take him, and his most urgent business is to find out what is inside of each and every drawer/box/closet/cupboard. It is imperative that he taste every kitchen utensil, and find out how each toy sounds as he drops it down the stairs. Being 17 months old is serious business.

That said, SWEET LORD I need a break. Lucky for me, I have a group of super awesome girlfriends and we've scheduled a trip to Palm Springs in May. A swimming pool, a fridge full of booze and BBQ. trust me, I'm counting the days. Hell, I'm counting the minutes.

Doggie update: Nanna had a down day, but she's still doing OK. But the real news is my new found doggie freedom. Ozzy, AKA the dog who can't be alone, has finally learned to be alone. I've been leaving him the backyard while I run errands and what not for the last week or so, and it's been working out really well. It's strange, but it almost feels as though I have a normal dog. Huh.