Somedays...no, not everyday, but somedays I feel like I'm just waiting. Waiting, biding my time until that golden moment. The moment after Ivy's last bottle of the night. After laying her gently in her crib, when I shut the door to her room and it dawns on me for at least the next few hours, I only have to worry about keeping MYSELF alive. Oh, it's a sweet moment. Yes, yes it is.
But to get there, you have to get past the witching hours. Those hours between oh, say, 5pm to 9pm. The hours when a smiling bundle of joy can become a screaming ball of hate. These are the hours best spent in the company of those who share your plight. For us, it's the Crookstons and the bundle of bedlam they call, Sloane. Kenny & Kendra have seen us through many a witching hour and I'd like to think we've returned the favor. If misery loves company, then I loves me some Crookstons.
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