I really, really want my husband to come home. I would never make it as a single parent. I love the kids, the little monsters, more than life itself. I love them that much, even when I want to throttle them. Today, Liam had at least a dozen ice pops. He'd take off with one and then come throw what I thought was the wrapper in the trash, and then ask for another. I was preoccupied, trying to do a little writing, so I wasn't paying that close attention until I got up to do the dishes. Turns out, he was just taking a bite or two of each one, then trashing it to get another flavor. I'd thought he'd just been eating them really fast. Sigh. Then, when I was laying in the bed doing a little reading, he'd sneak in and turn the light off, then run out squealing. I know you all think that sounds cute. It was not. Maybe I'm just a tad grumpy and unreasonable, though. Patrick is the only one Liam really listens to. He hears the things I say, but he must think I'm the best comedienne in the world, because he just laughs at everything I say. Double sigh.

I'm going to bed.