Since he left I've made up for all those things I stopped doing before he got here. I started chewing off my fingernails in the car on the way home. I ate a bag of jelly beans and some chicken curry so even though I'm not any fatter, I look like I gained 20 pounds of bloat this morning. I am still in my pajama pants and I might just stay that way all day. I'm eating 2 day old leftover oatmeal. My posture is so bad that my breasts are actually brushing against my thighs. I haven't done dishes in a day and a half, which in my house means they are piled high and haphazzardly and no one is brave enough to even look at them without fear of being trapped on the kitchen floor under an avalanche of mismatched plastic cups and stolen restaurant plates.
And the BEST news is that the girls informed me last night that they have Monday off from school. WHAT??? Monday isn't a holiday?! I'll bet the teachers decided they just couldn't handle seeing kids so soon after having to be thankful and wanted to hold off reality just a little longer.
So here I am stuck with them one more day and I can't shut myself in my bed and curl up on the side he slept on and pretend he's still here. Because they come in every 30 seconds with excuses like: Can I have a piece of bread? or Can I call Grandma? Or Emily has been on the Wii 2 hours and 28 minutes longer than me! I know they really just need to know where I am and what I'm doing every second so they feel secure that I'm not upstairs crying.
Besides, they pick on me when I cry.
It's not the End of the World Mom.
Yes, yes it is. Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.