I hate molars.

Our sweet, happy Q has given us very few smiles this week. And by us, I guess I mean me since Mike has mostly been gone. This meant that by the time Friday finally rolled around I was at the end of what was a very long & patient rope (ropes needs to be quite long as a mother, of course). I really felt so badly for my little boy, but having a needy, clingy, sad child while solo is incredibly taxing on an individual's mental health & well being, & I kind of just really wanted someone to come & adopt him for a few days hours (which is also why I had a sitter come one afternoon so that I could run out & get things done alone, just for a bit - that was really nice). One lesson I've learned as a mother is that more often than not, you just don't have a choice. Babies don't turn off, & when you think you can't do it anymore (whatever that "it" might be - sing another song, rock for another minute, soothe for another hour, miss sleep for another night), you discover that you absolutely can. Motherhood has taught me that I can do absolutely anything.

Still. Despite our less-than-average week, I still managed to get 18 things done off of my to-do list.  Eighteen! I just counted. There was definitely a day where absolutely, positively nothing was accomplished except showering + keeping my child fed & alive, but other days were better. Some of these things were small & relatively insignificant (drop off the dry cleaning, go to the post office), while others felt like major accomplishments, like finally steaming all five 124-inch drapery panels in my living room. 124 inches x 5! That took such a really long time, it's been on my list for weeks (!) & now that it's finished I feel like I can finally get a proper night's rest (note to self: always press curtains before hanging them. It would have saved me hours). Next on my list of small & somewhat petty: replacing my porch flowers that I murdered. Apparently they need water more often than every 3 weeks.

Mike & I went out to dinner with his boss + husband Friday night in Houston. I wore eyeliner, put on a dry-clean-only outfit & felt like a real adult for several (4!) hours. Brennan's was a beautiful restaurant, & I remembered how happy really good food makes me. I ate turtle soup (delicious, but I'm still trying not to think about it), & came home with a cookbook signed by the chef - a sweet gift from the kind person for whom Mike works. We got home close to midnight, which is always terrifying given the early bird nature of my child, but he slept in! 7am is a beautiful thing on a Saturday morning. So much better than 6am, really. I made breakfast, ran errands (The Container Store opened, hooray!), we met friends for lunch, & I made a really good dinner.

I've been trying to show Mike all of the new tricks that Q learned this week. He's getting so good at walking! He's still not on his own, but he's taking lots of steps, especially when he thinks no one is looking. My mom calls every day & asks how his walking training is going, & I'm always happy to give her the latest update. Lots of progress, & we're almost there. Although the more that I think about it, the more I'm wondering if I want to be there. 

This morning - Quinn did not sleep in. He woke up a sad boy with a fist in his mouth + sad cries of pain, much like he has the past 5+ days. I hate molars. I really, really hate molars. They're especially terrible I think in my extra-dramatic + extra-expressive boy. I'm certain that we'll have another fabulous afternoon at church (last week was a bust & I finally left in tears), so I'm just trying to take deep breaths & work through things an hour at a time. I'm leaving Mike to sleep since I'm fairly certain he came to bed almost as the sun was coming up (work, work, work this week), so Q & I are sharing blueberry pancakes for breakfast. They seem to be making him happy. And! They don't contain any black beans. Perhaps things are looking up.