I just found a draft of this post that I began back in September 2012 and never published...
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LFG is still asleep. I’m almost giddy amidst the phenomenon of having her here with me for three nights in this, my incrementally devolving Casa Minimus Man Cave. She was exhausted last night after two dance classes yesterday and her second week of seventh grade homework. I fed her dinner…comfort food…like the old days when she was five or six years old…baked chicken and French style green beans. She was postprandially comatose on the sofa within minutes of finishing her dinner.
I’ll gladly engage in my finance and transportation duties today as I shuttle LFG to back to back dance classes and a couple of other appointments as well. Here’s what I mentioned in an email to a friend earlier this morning… “L___is still asleep. I gave her a small dose of adult NyQuil last night before bed. She’s got an adult sounding rattle in her chest. It’s been so long since I’ve had her here, in Old Town, for three consecutive days…I’m reveling in it…even though I’m essentially doing the transport to dance classes thing for the most part. I’m just a completely different and frankly, better person when I’m with my child. I think you know what I’m saying. Only parents can understand that phenomenon.” I don’t give marital or child rearing advice as a general rule. But I’ve come to the following so take it for what it’s worth—Either have zero kids or more than one.