the kids are with my parents - as a Valentine's Day gift to J and I... we elected to stay home and do things we've been wanting to do- but can't with rats underfoot. rugrats I mean.
So I made a bag, J made a fire and is cleavering up a chicken in the kitchen as I type, after having read by the fire in peace and quiet all afternoon. I ate a bag of candy by myself and am feeling my teeth rebel all by myself as well.
I feel very guilty that I love being by myself so much. VERY. but I don't know how else to keep track of where and who I am in this baby-raising time. It is so evident that I am critical to the lives of these two kids and yet I am constantly wanting to be away, craving a solitude of 'nunnery' proportions. How to balance what we all need? How do I manage to keep them fed and relatively happy when I haven't showered in a week or can hardly feed myself in all the insanity?
And I am just tired to hell of doubting that I should be anyone's mother. as if I could change it now. This is the rock, that exists because I kicked it. okay?
Look, I made something else too!! Who could ever want to escape that?!

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