Man. I feel zombi-fied. Mark's been ultra tired, so he came home from his parenting class and took a 2 hour nap. No big deal really, except that by the time he got home, I was ready for a break . Having Emma pretty much solidly alone the past two days really makes me appreciate how nice it is to take after a 5 year old with significant help. Not only do we have each other, we only have her part-time. And yet it still seems trying at times. I don't know how the fuck I took care of 3 kids under 6 years old at the same time. With very little help. And a whole lot of scrutiny.

I know I was fried most of the time. Not baked fried, (you know, shibby) but just completely worn out. I did in-home day care for about 8 years during that time too, so not only were my children underfoot, I had other people's children all day too. Anyone who knows me much at all will attest that I generally do not like other people's children. I'm very judgemental of other people's parenting, and usually think that I have all the answers, all the time.

And in reality, I made more mistakes than I can count. I have regrets balled up, probably creating ulcers as we speak. But we really did have a pretty good time...most of the time. It was hectic, but we seemed to work together pretty well, most of us.

The bad times were few, but alarmingly memorable.

I think I'm just too "settled" (read: old) to keep up with a toddler sometimes. I couldn't do it at this point in my life without the gracious way Mark tends to Emma. It would be very hard to stay with Mark if he was the type of dad Dan was. I couldn't do it emotionally alone again. Even with just one. Especially one that wasn't mine. Anyway...

Tonight I feel for Dy, who has this all the time.