God help me, but how I survived

I just lived through my first weekend as a single "parent." Some insidiously annoying animal people would call me a "meowmy" or some other ridiculous moniker, but I will continue to refer to myself in the third person as "mommy."

Not that it makes any difference what I call myself. The end result is still the same: I am pooped. The parenthood thing is a lot more work than just hanging out and being my cool self all the time. Now that Anthony is in Charlotte (for way too long, might I add), I get the full brunt of all the household responsibilities.

Which means that I'm walking the dog at midnight when I get home from hanging out with friends for the first time in what seems like decades on a Saturday night.

It also means that I'm spending afternoons in the park, pretending that I don't have other things to do but unable to resist the "but don't you love me?" look in Grace's beautiful little brown eyes.

I try so hard to fit everything in and be the well-rounded Ryan that you've all come to know and love, but having furry children certainly makes that impossible. It is now official - none of you will ever see me again.

But thanks for the night out, Morgan & John. Thanks for the hike, Jeff & Eric. I will now be returning to hermit-dom.