Back when I was a dewy young thing in my 20s, I thought is was very important that everyone knew all about me. Not in any sort of claim to fame type of way--more like, "Hello, nice to meet you, I'm a bisexual feminist prochoice witch from a working class family. But enough about me..." That sort of thing.
I still think its important to be honest but, here on the other side of dewy, I usually wait till I'm asked--and that goes for explaining how I am and why I'm that way. That being said, I'll show a little decorum and not go into how hard life has been lately and how I've just been exhausted the last few days trying to keep up. Well, I guess I just went into it but you'll notice I left out the details. You're welcome.
Anyhow, that's the long way of saying that last night I realized that I Just. Couldn't. Take. Any. More. There was no way in hell I was going to be able to straighten up the house in time for the lady from the Alliance for Infants and Toddlers to come by for Donny's at home assessment. There was also probably no way I was going to get him home in time for it, seeing as how it was scheduled for 6:30 and Mike works late tonight. I ceded to reality and just called to cancel. So, I ask you: bad mother move or good mother move? I'm on the fence but I'm veering towards good. I know that the Alliance for Infants and Toddlers isn't like CYS and they aren't going to take my baby away because they smell hamburger grease when I heat up the teakettle. Still: why take the chance?
Tomorrow I will most likely have a cemetery tour and all my go-to folks for Donnysitting are otherwise engaged. Looks like he'll be riding shotgun with me again.
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