Jiggity Jig. I’m home. Mom left a little earlier today. It’s
just Boop, Winnie, and me. And we’re getting ready for the coming week. I’m
going to try to work a full week. I’ve been doing laundry all day and tried to
get a few things clean for Mom, too. The bags from the trip are unpacked, and I’ve
put Boop’s things together for daycare. Hopefully, I’ve remembered everything. And
all of the doing is a distraction. It’s just us, trying to find our routine,
and at the end of the work day, Boop and I will have just a couple of waking
hours together. We’re having to adjust all over again. I know I can’t keep this
up for long on my own. I’m not sure which is worse: remaining here with less
support or trying to move back home, leaving behind my good salary and health
benefits.
And I’d like to believe that I’ll meet the right person.
Where I’ll find time to meet this person, I have no idea, but I’d like to
believe that I can make the time. I remember something on Oprah, I think it was
Dr. Phil that was talking to some women about meeting men. He asked them what
these ladies expected, that some man would just throw himself onto the hood of
their car or something?
I’m too stubborn, I think. I don’t change course easily, and
I haven’t given up on the idea of the happy ending. My life has just become so
complicated. And I’m not able to sort out the games that people are playing. Some
days I think: if only Boop and I could both be well at the same time, I might
be able to sort things out. Her jaundice, the breastfeeding problems and her
weight loss, her UTI and kidney problems. Things will get better. Boop is
already smiling and laughing more every day, which makes it easier, such a
pretty little girl. She deserves the best I can give.
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