Tonight is a perfect example of life not being fair. Better Half has worked a 13 hour shift dealing with the less-than-honest population of our fair town, while I have been shopping with my mother. We ate a spectacular lunch (best damn turkey burger EVAH!) and then just kinda moseyed around. I didn't find "the" prom dress but I narrowed it down enough to know what I wanted to order online. So, to be honest, my day was a little less stressful...well, not really, but mine didn't involve a bullet-proof vest and his does.
After getting home, I managed to feed three kids, take the big kids to great-grandmother's house for the night, AND fix homemade chili. This is not tooting my own horn, but I want to make sure ya'll understand I wasn't eating bon-bons while sipping my champagne on the veranda. That's impossible because we don't have a veranda. Better Half came home to dinner and a moderately-happy household. It's a win in my book.
However...However, when Hurricane comes through with her announcement of "My diaper is full of poop and I need a bath," all of a sudden it's my maternal duty to take care of this because he's worked today and I haven't. BUT, I did. Shopping is nothing at which to snub one's nose. It takes diligence, strategic planning and a keen sense of awareness. Skills that take years of honing.
After several moments of tense bargaining (which boiled down to me telling Hurricane her daddy was unconcerned with her hygiene...he found no humor in that...don't know why?), I sucked it up and took care of business. Not only did she get to play in the tub, I also managed to clean the toilet and the sinks while I was in there. Can you see my Super Mom halo? I think so.
During this time, Better Half got to chill and play on the computer. When we finished, he did manage to get an assist in when I was giving her the mani/pedi treatment because trimming her nails is somewhat akin to wrestling calves.
Bedtime is a dark time in our household. All the kids hate it, and it's a two hour endurance race between the kids and the parents. Some nights I just quit and tell them to sleep wherever they fall. Because I had stepped up for the evening's duties, Better Half came in to do bedtime duty. God help him.
As I sit, chatting with my computer, Better Half is still upstairs having a conversation with the two-year old. Do you know how long a conversation with a two-year old can be? Not chronologically, mind you, but how l-o-n-g it can seem. Eons, I'll tell ya.
Life isn't fair. Plain and simple. It's not fair that's he's worked all day and is still trying to convince her sleep is a good thing. It's not fair I'm sitting here ignoring that he's up there. All in all, though, we each get something out of it. After she was all clean and shiny and smelled that sweet smell only babies have, she wrapped her pudgy arms around me to tell me I'm her best friend. I know that as she fades off to dreamland, there will be deep sighs and fluttering eyelashes that make us forgive all the injustices of the day, and her daddy is lying beside her with his heart about to burst with how much he loves her. No, life is not fair...sometimes we get way more than we deserve.