It’s been cold. Cold like too-cold to go outside. Eileen is not a fan of her new stroller (she hates the damn thing) and refuses to get in. The only thing she hates more than her stroller is the foot muff/sleeping bag/lime green snuggle that keeps her toasty warm. Hates it. So, we spend a lot of time indoors looking at the sunshine from outside.
We have had minimal snow. Really, a depressing amount. Not enough to pile up, but enough to create icy sidewalks, which does not make a difference to these Georgia girls, as, aforementioned, we do not go outside.
Husband has just come off an incredibly difficult schedule, so we actually get to see him for more than 20 minutes a day. It’s a nice change-- no longer being a single-parent. The other day I was complaining (no other word for it-- complaining) to a friend in a similar boat as her husband has just started up a new insurance house in Greensboro. We both live in tight quarters with babes who are weeks apart. Lucky for her as my glass is eternally half full, she is pregnant with their second due in May. Digress-- complaining about being a single parent and her husband spreads his seeds of wisdom with two facts:
- If I was truly a single parent, I’d be living in subsidized housing and not getting a check every two weeks. (I kindly told him that I would be getting a check every two weeks: welfare)
- Everyone likes veal, but no one wants to see the calf. Right now, the husbands are the calves, but soon- they’ll be veal.
Petra & I decided to bide our time, enjoy our small quarters and relish the times when clipping coupons was how we spend our Sunday evenings until the waiter says, “The special this evening is veal. Would you like that with red wine?”