Home Alone

Arielle is in her room, wailing loud enough to drown out a fire alarm. The source of this distress? Well, what else but bedtime? Supposedly she is hungry, thirsty, needs to use the rest room, needs to cuddle with Mommy, you name it. The list is infinite, I am sure.

However. We are making some progress, finally. She is hopping up and down less than she used to and is arguing with us less when we tell her to go back to bed. But, wow, that child is stubborn!

The husband is back at work. He's been home sick all this week so far. I feel bad for how ill he's been, but I have felt rather sorry for myself. Michael is gone this week, with his mother, and the husband is working in the evenings, so I was looking forward to having a long week of empty evenings, where I could watch whatever I wanted, play on the computer without having to share, and not make much of an effort over dinner, since the girls don't eat much anyway.

Oh well. I get to have tonight.

Michael will be home tomorrow. I just heard from his mother, and he's been sick, too. So the poor kid is going to be traveling while he's feeling lousy. I wish I knew something to make coming back in the car at least, easier on him. That poor sweetie.