But today was a pretty damn good day. The second night of Bug's life was the night my nervous pre-sleep thoughts moved from work to the Bug (There was no sleep on Night One). The first time she got better from sickness was the first time my heart went kaboom with relief that she was OK.And closing in on the end of my first week back at work, coming home today was the first time I really felt the relief that I'd get to hang with the family. Waiting for the F That Would Not Come, I could really look forward to the ritual of knocking her around on my lap.
Not that this has anything to do with St. Valentine. The holiday is still idiotic, I don't understand why anyone would need a day to do the kind of things you're supposed to do, or why Twit A would be angry that Twit B forgot to buy a box of mint-jelly-filled chocolates. Family time, though, I increasingly understand.
Update/Reality Check: Damn Wifus swears that at 4AM she was in bed and heard me say (very sweetly and coaxingly) to the baby, "No, there's no need to be a little asshole is there?"
