Ten Things That Royally Suck About Being a Single Parent

Back in the day, anytime the husband was out of town for a couple of days, I would lament dramatically about how hard being a "single parent" was. I would heap praise upon single mothers for their heroic efforts, as I swooned on the couch like a damsel in distress, hair in a messy bun, yesterday's makeup smeared across my eyes.

Then I became a single mother in real life, not just for a weekend, but for, like, forever indefinitely, and I realized there are way more things that suck about being a single parent than just feeling and looking tired all the time.

As my days go by, I discover more and more things that just suck. Some of these are specific to single parents; most can be shared by single folks regardless of parental status. But the following ten things are what I have found to be the suckiest parts of single motherhood. (I could also offer a money-back guarantee that Scott feels the exact same way about being a single dad, but there's been no money exchanged here, so just take my word for it.)

Ten Things That Royally Suck About Being A Single Parent (or single whatever):

1. Having to carry all your own groceries into the house. SERIOUSLY. It's like twice as many trips to the car, and then you have to put it all away yourself too. There is, of course, the cutting-off-circulation-to your-wrists method by slipping 6 bags onto each arm and clutching the gallons of milk in your fists, but you then risk scratching the paint on your car by trying to close the trunk with arms full of swinging cans of mixed vegetables. Yes, you can recruit the kids to help, but suddenly they all find a bag of bread sooooo heavy, Mom and you just want to give up right then on the driveway in front of your neighbors and God and the city alderman who lives two doors down. (She throws great summer barbecues.)

I use the cut-off-circulation method every time.

2. Not having someone to make a quick run to the store whilst you're cooking when you realize you're missing an ingredient. You know, you think you have everything you need, so you start stirring the pot on the stove and shoving food in the oven when you realize, "Aw crap, I'm out of ketchup!" But there's a half-ready dinner cooking, and with no one to run to the nearest supermarket to grab a bottle of ketchup for you, your dinner is ruined and the kids refuse to eat it.

I always run out of eggs.

3. Having no one to call to when you're in the bathroom and out of toilet paper. Y'all know what I'm talking about - you've had a satisfying few moments of silence, until you realize you're out of TP. So you do the awkward shake off then commence the pants-around-your-ankles waddle to the toilet paper closet and back. (Does everyone else have a toilet paper closet?)  Anyway, I've called on the kids once or twice when they were within earshot, but I'm trying to train them to leave me alone in the bathroom, not join me there. Inviting them in to hand me a roll of toilet paper is as counterproductive as inviting them to sit across from me on a stool and tell me again all about their favorite YouTuber.

Ah crap.

4. Similarly, having no one to call to when you're in the shower and forget to get a towel. I hate the feel of sopping foot prints on my bathmat, but when you forget the towel, you've got to drip drip drip all the way to the towel closet (surely you all have one of those) and all the way back. Then the bottoms of your feet get all covered in fluff and hair and tiny bits of paper that didn't exist until that very moment, and you will need another shower again to rinse off all the filth. And then you'll have to vacuum your carpets right after that because you had no idea they were so disgusting.

Is there anybody out there?

5. The sole responsibility is on you to remember to drip the faucets when it's cold outside. Okay, this one's personal. But I came home from work yesterday to burst water pipes, and it was all my fault for forgetting to drip the taps just that once. The adulting is too much.

Actual footage of my basement ceiling.

6. Flying solo when the kids are absolutely doing your head in. Let's get to the real parental brass tacks here. When there are two sane adults in the house, one of you is allowed to sometimes succumb to the overwhelming insanity and retreat, while the less perturbed one rallies the troops. But when you're the only adult around, there's no one to pass the buck to. You just have to keep on truckin', and try not to Hulk smash anything.

And it's only 8am, honey.

7. Having no one to pick up the slack when you're sick. I remember last Valentine's Day being surrounded by puking children and feeling pukey myself. While I was lying bed in the middle of the night, trying not to move a single muscle to keep my stomach still, I heard a kid hurl all over the bedroom carpet. I had to soothe a crying child, mop up puke, and suppress my own heaves. It was god-awful. Then there's the times I get a migraine, and even the slightest noise or light makes me crazy. It's those times when the kids decide a mangled Pokemon card is worth fighting to the death over. And don't get me started on what it's like the week before I start my period.

I just can't even.

8. Trying to juggle school nights all on your own. Homework, dinner, cleaning up, bath time, bedtime, kill-me-now. I may pretend to be supermom, but after a full day of work and getting home at 5:30 - 6pm, trying to assist three children to varying degrees with homework, whilst cooking dinner and running a load of dishes and throwing in a load of laundry all before bath and bedtime - after all of that, I feel like the worst mum ever. Plus, my fifth grader's math homework makes me feel like an idiot.

You and me both, kid.

9. Having no one to unwind and be an adult with at the end of the day. After all the hard work is over and the kids are tucked peacefully into their beds, you look around and it's just you. There's no other adult to plop on the couch next to and share a glass of wine with. No one to just look at and laugh off the ridiculousness of your evening with. No adult to vent to about the walls your toddler Sharpied today or that woman at work who drives you crazy. No one to cuddle with while you unwind to an episode of Walking Dead (or The Bachelor, whatever floats your boat). No, it's just you. Some days that's perfect. On other days, it sucks.

Guess I'll just eat this whole cake myself.

10. Feeling overwhelmed when the kids are there and feeling lonely when they're not. Though having the kids 24/7 is overwhelming and at times maddening, when they are at their dad's house, everything feels so empty. My house is just too quiet. I enjoy it the first night, don't get me wrong. I then get a little restless the second night. After a few nights, I start thinking about all their sweet qualities: their hugs and kisses, their funny sayings, their bright eyes, their peaceful faces while sleeping. And I start to miss them, like, in the tenderest part of my heart. I miss them so much, it hurts. It really sucks. Royally.

I even miss their incessant, unintelligible chatter.

Image Sources: Unsplash / Pixabay / Adobe Stock

5 Reasons I'm Still Supermom

GLOSSARY

SAHM: Stay-At-Home-Mum

WAHM: Work-At-Home-Mum

WOHM: Work-Outside-Home-Mum

I remember the days in the not so distant past when I was the kind of mummy who wore my babies in slings, breastfed beyond two years, practiced baby-led-weaning, and swore by co-sleeping and never CIO (crying it out). I was the kind of mummy who sat around with her friends drinking tea and talking about the best way to gently discipline without spanking, why attachment parenting is the best way to go, how to prepare the best home remedies for minor ailments, and where we could find fluoride-free toothpaste. I was the kind of mummy who did crafts with her kids, read them books before bedtime, made gorgeous bento box lunches to send with them to school, and took them on playdates to the park with other SAHMs and their kids for some good old fashioned Vitamin D.

I liked being that mummy. I admire that mummy. She was pretty all right.

Now I'm the kind of mummy who forgets to send back signed forms to the school, who runs out of clean uniforms before Friday because she hasn't done the laundry, and who packs pre-packaged food in disposable, non-environmentally friendly bags for lunch.  The mummy who lets them watch too much TV so she can catch a break and shouts way too much when they get unruly.

It's so easy to compare the SAHM me to the WOHM me and see the latter as inferior.  I idealize the former and remember her as certainly far more serene than she actually was, while criticizing the latter. Here's the deal: I need to give the current me some credit. I need to stop comparing and cut myself some slack.

So instead of dwelling on all the things I'm not doing so much anymore, it's time I look at the bright side of the new WOHM me.  Here are five things I am doing right as a mother:

1. I'm modeling feminist empowerment.
This in fact is what I've been doing all along. As a SAHM, I showed my kids that a woman can do whatever she believes is right for her life. I modeled positive feminist values by choosing to stay home with my kids, while my husband supported us, because it was what I (we) believed in.  As a WAHM later down the line, I showed my kids that a woman can start her own business and be creative in finding ways to make money and support her family. I showed them that a woman can both take care of household jobs and run a business and be fulfilled in all these activities. Now, as a WOHM, I am demonstrating that a woman can have a career and be a mother, that women can be as successful as men, and that if a woman wants to work outside the home, she should do so. A woman can do whatever is right for her at whatever stage of her life she is in.  Whether she is a SAHM, WAHM or WOHM, she can be successful and fulfilled in all she does.

(As a side note, Scott has also been modeling feminist values to our children by supporting and agreeing with my work choices all along the way. He shows our son how to respect a woman's capabilities and personal autonomy, while also showing our daughters how a man can and should respect a woman's capabilities and personal autonomy. My husband is a seriously awesome feminist.)

2. I'm not afraid to say I'm sorry.
When the kids act mean or rude, I expect them to apologize. When I act mean or rude, I apologize too. Often times my fuse can be short, and I react no better than a child. When I blow things out of proportion or throw a hissy fit, I am not afraid to say I'm sorry to my kids. I'm not perfect, and if my kids haven't already discovered this, they will soon enough. Teaching them to apologize by example is a life skill I am able to teach on a regular basis! It is not a sign of weakness for a parent to apologize to a child when the parent is in the wrong; it's a demonstration of maturity and humility.

(Side note. Scott is awesome about apologizing to the kids too. We also say we are sorry to each other in front of the kids anytime we have a fight. Apologies aren't just for children.)

3. I talk to them openly about social issues and current events.
We listen to NPR in the car nearly everywhere we go (and when it's not NPR, it's really good music, which is also something we're doing right), and our kids ask us often about the news they hear. We talk openly about the current events and social issues that are discussed. Whether it's a white police officer who shot a black man for no reason, a gay couple being refused a marriage license, the presidential debates, Syrian migrants, or religious freedom, we talk openly about it. We ask the kids to think these things through themselves and encourage them to come up with their own solutions and opinions. We do our best to make our kids aware of the larger world around them and to see themselves as activists who can make the world a better place. Between our three kids, we have a future President of the United States, a schoolteacher, and a Power Ranger. How more activist could they get?

4. I laugh with them.
All these "I I I"s should really be "We We We"s. Scott is 100% all of these things too. As a family, we make a point of being silly as often as possible. We're a bunch of sarcastic so-and-sos who tease the crap out of each other and play silly pranks on each other and make jokes about everything. Sometimes things have to be taken seriously, but we make a point of being lighthearted whenever we can. Life is short and laughter is free.

5. I read.
They say one of the best things you can do for a child's academic success is have books in the home. We are rebuilding our home library after selling everything, and we make it a priority to give the kids plenty of access to books for themselves. Besides just having books in the home, we aim to actively cultivate a love of reading in our kids. We may not have the same perfect routine we used to have of reading books every night before bed, but reading is still a huge part of our family life. My youngest loves being read to, my middle is discovering how exciting it is to sound out the words and read for herself, and my oldest is never further than arm's reach away from a novel twice the size of her. And besides just encouraging them to enjoy reading, I often have my nose in a book too. Without even trying, I am demonstrating a love for reading. I carry one (sometimes two) books with me everywhere I go, and I simply love to read. Actively instilling this in them as well as modeling it in myself is a parenting win. I may not cook organic meals, but I will read the crap out of some books then pass them on to a kid.


READERS:
What is something YOU are doing right in your life? When the easiest thing to do is see all the things you're doing wrong, take a minute to jot down some of the things you are doing right, and share them here!

The Truth Fairy

We've never really done the Santa thing on the kids; we let them sort of believe in him during the Christmas season, but I've always been clear during the year that he was pretend (much to Scott's chagrin). The same with the Easter Bunny and Banoffee Pie, our Elf on the Shelf.

But the tooth fairy, she was kind of different. She and the pajama fairy and all other fairies seemed to be treated with more respect, more believability.  When the kids asked if fairies were real, instead of giving them the brutally honest "No, but it's fun to pretend!" line I gave when asked about Santa, I tended to give more vague - though not quite dishonest - answers. "What do you think?" or "Hmm, I don't know..."

So the tooth fairy kind of stuck.

Our tooth fairy leaves a little tiny note on special stationery (kept tucked out of sight in my underwear drawer) with every tooth. She tells the child what the fairies plan to do with her tooth; seems Fairy Land is always in the middle of some major renovation project - a new Fairy Town Hall, the fairymentary school, the fairiatrics wing of the hospital, a fairy brick road.

Fifi has lost all the baby teeth she will lose for a while, but Lolly has been not-so-patiently waiting for her first one to come out. Finally, a couple of weeks ago, it got wobbly. We all got very excited for her, and Fifi exclaimed, "You'll get a visit from the tooth fairy! You'll get a dollar!" We all cheered.

"But you know," Lolly began, with a sly grin on her face. "The tooth fairy isn't really real."

I slyly grinned back. "Oh really?"

She shook her head, then considered for a moment.

"Since I know the tooth fairy isn't real, can I get TWO dollars?"

I'm not sure if she's cut out for business or politics. Or both.

Well, since then, she's been wiggling it constantly. Then today, after school, I gave it a little push to see how close to ready it was, and out the little toothie came!

Regardless of whether she believes in the tooth fairy or not, she is still getting a little tiny note on special stationery in place of her little tooth which we've set up in front of her fairy door (because a tooth under a pillow is just asking for a lost tooth and a woken child), but instead of a coin or a dollar bill....

She's getting a check.

"The tooth fairy" doesn't have any cash on her.

Pennies for scale
(Click here to zoom)

I'm pretty sure a withdrawal slip, a simple explanatory note and my bank card tucked into the capsule along with Lolly's check at the drive-through lane of the bank will be sufficient for clearing this check.  She will, of course, still need to endorse the back.

Mom Always Listens

As it turns out, I must be doing something right after all. Fifi made me this last night in VBS. The kids made a card for everyone in their family with something nice written about all of them. This just melted my heart. She told me, 'Really, Mum, you do always listen.'

I think of all things she could've said about me, that was the most meaningful.


(And I love that Dad is smart, because he really is. Like freaky, irritatingly smart.

Reading To Children (And Reading For Grown-Ups)

I have always enjoyed reading. Since I learned to sound words out, I've been reading and writing. I don't know if it has always just been natural to me, or if someone instilled the love of books in me.

My big brother, Danny, introduced me to The Babysitters Club books when I was quite young. (Sorry, Danny, for outing you on that one!) I remember poring over them, flying through book after book, at least as early as third grade (that must be aged... eight?), if not before. I just loved reading.

Scott was a big reader too. Scott was reading The Lord of the Rings in Primary 5, along with 'Choose Your Own Adventure' books and lots and lots of sci-fi. His dad was very good at passing him books to read beyond his 'normal' age bracket.

Reading is something Scott and I are desperate to pass on to our own kids. We want them to love books the way we love them. Fifi, who reads and writes solely in Gaelic at school, is about to move into an English classroom in her new school in Arkansas, where I worry all the kids will be reading and writing in English much more fluently than she currently can. She has a summer reading list for her new school, with the likes of Dr Suess, AA Milne, and Beatrix Potter, so today I got out Dr Suess's ABC: The Amazing Alphabet Book for her to work through. It thrills me to see how keen she is to read and how hard she works to figure out words. She gets frustrated at times because she can't read fluently, but she is eager to figure it out.

Despite the bilingual issues she has with still trying to implement Gaelic blends into English words and not recognising English blends, she is still doing a really amazing job learning to read English. Tonight, she read their first bedtime story, Where's My Teddy?, with very little help. Then I read a few chapters of Matilda to them.

Is this the way to get kids to learn to love books? I hope so. I know a lot of parents are better than we are at bedtime stories and reading to their kids, but I really do struggle with finding the time and patience amongst all the housework, cooking, and daily stress of life to sit down and read a lot with them. Yet I think it's one of the most important things we can do with our kids, one of the best gifts we can give them. Over the past week, I've been making the effort of reading for a good half an hour at night time to get the girls ready for bed. It sounds easy enough, but after spending all day long with children, by bedtime, I am desperate for some peace and quiet time, all to myself. At about 7pm, I start to lose all patience for small people and really need a break. But I've been finding that (as long as Lolly is behaving) this half hour of sitting quietly on their bed reading to the girls has been really good for us. Scott's been doing Jaguar's bedtime, which means I have time for uninterrupted Fifi-and-Lolly time. It's been good for our relationship, and it's been good for our quality reading time. We recently pushed back their bedtime an hour, which is tiring in one way but has helped a lot in another. Now, while we must endure an extra hour of noise and madness (at a time of evening when both of us are really finding our patience wearing thin), we are getting much better compliance at actually getting them to go to sleep. It's now at this later bedtime that I've been sitting with them and reading, and now that they've had an extra hour of energy-release, they seem to be much more relaxed and willing to sit still for stories.

(Scott used to be the Bedtime Parent when Jaguar was smaller and needed me most of the time. Scott used to make up stories for them every night, and the girls loved 'Daddy Stories', which usually involved two princesses coincidentally named Fifi and Lolly, and often included some unicorns, fairies and talking woodland creatures. I loved this too, as I'd love for the kids to develop wild enough imaginations to become writers as well as readers!)

As for me, I'm currently working my way through the Harry Potter series (about ten years behind everyone else), as they are easy to read, fun, and light, which is just the kind of books I need right now, when everything else in my life feels so heavy and intense. Thus one of my main reasons for loving books so much; I love the escapism of some and the solidarity of others. Some books take you away from your world, and others draw you deeper into your own.

Which reminds me, I've been doing a 'Book a Month' book review here on the blog, and need to write about the last 'proper' book (nae offense, JK Rowling) I read, my March (and part of April) book, Silence by Shusaku Endo. However, I first need to check with my online book club to make sure everyone has finished it before reviewing it!

And that review will be tough... Silence was *definitely* a book that dragged me deeper into my own world, and it won't be easy to write about! It would be much easier to review Harry Potter, that's for certain!

Hospitals, Singing Austrians and the Spiritual Upbringing of Little Children

So, what have we been up to this week, you ask? (No, really, you asked. Just... you asked, okay?)

Well, this week can be divided into three parts.

PART ONE: HOSPITALS

Well, for starters, we spent Monday through Wednesday in hospitals with Lolly. Hmm, how do I go into this story with the best impact?

Lolly severed her finger in a door and had to have it sewn back on.

Yeah, that sounds like a good way of starting.

Lolly got her finger shut in a door. I assumed at first it would just be a little sore, a little bruised... until I looked at it. People with weak stomachs, stop reading now. The end of her right ring finger was pretty much dangling off, with the bone protruding out the end and the finger and nail just sort of hanging there. Needless to say, there was a lot of blood too. And screaming.

Lolly chuffed with her special sticker and bandage

I rushed her to Accident & Emergency, where they took her right away. Without even looking at the hand wrapped in a blood-stained kitchen towel, they weighed her and administered painkillers. I sat with her in my lap, singing whatever soothing songs could come to my head ("Mairzy dotes and dozy dotes and liddle lamsey divey...") , for what felt like ages. I kept asking when they were going to DO SOMETHING, but they said they really needed to wait until the painkillers kicked in before anything else. They all seemed so calm, like this was normal. (I guess to an A&E, it is.) Finally, the doctor unwrapped her cloth, bandaged up her hand, and sent us for an x ray. The x ray, thank God, came back clear, no broken bone. They then cleaned her up, put on another bandage, and delivered the bomb.

She would need to go the children's hospital in Glasgow to get the finger surgically stitched back up. And she would have to go under general anaesthetic to do it. And she'd have to wait until the following morning (this was around 4-5pm on Monday evening).

So we took our little girl, now feeling quite pleased with all the attention she was getting, home for a nerve-wracking night.

Early Tuesday morning, Scott and I drove Lolly (with Jaguar in tow), up to Yorkhill Children's Hospital. Because she was getting a general anaesthetic, she had to fast. She was a good sport about not getting breakfast. They quickly got a bed for her, and she had fun playing in the play room for a while. But as the hours passed, and she still didn't have a theatre slot for surgery, she started to complain about being hungry. She didn't complain much; she was actually an incredibly good sport, but I felt for her.

At about 2pm, they got her ready to go into theatre. Scott took Jaguar home, since Scott had a doctor's appointment booked and there was nothing we could do at that point anyway, and I took Lolly to the theatre ward. I held her hand while they gave her the gas to put her to sleep (the "sleeping potion", we called it) and then played the waiting game outside for about an hour and a half.  At least I got some of my Harry Potter reading done.

Groggy but cheerful

When she came back up to the ward, her entire arm was in a bandage, and she was still asleep. I kissed her, stroked her hair and waited for another hour or so for her to wake. When she did, she quietly looked around the ward and said, "We're back...?"

Scott and Jaguar returned around that point. The nurses told us as long as she was able to eat and drink all right, she could go home after four hours. At this point, that made leaving time 8.30pm. She'd also been without food for nearly 23 hours. She had some juice and toast.

Then she threw it up. Three times.

So we got dropped another bomb; she'd have to stay in overnight.

Obviously, this was not what we expected. In fact, we expected to have been long gone by then. We thought she'd get her operation before noon, and be home in time to pick up Fifi from school. We had no change of clothes for her, nothing. Scott and I both had work the next morning. I couldn't stay over night because of Jaguar. So in the end, Scott got to be Super Dad and stay in the hospital over night with her, sleeping in a little fold out cot in a busy, sad, sick children's ward, and I went home in tears, missing and worrying about my baby, to collapse in bed with Jaguar.

Oh and Fifi. We'll get to her in a moment.

The next morning at about 8, the doctors said she was free to go home once the nurses finished the paperwork, so Scott called to say I should come up after the school run. Knowing how these things take ages, I took my time getting up to the hospital, and arrived after 10. The paperwork was done, but someone still needed to take the IV out of the back of her hand.

Two hours later, we finally got the IV out and headed home.

Lolly's operation went well. The bone, as I said, was unharmed, and luckily, the tendon was in tact. The only lasting issues may be some nerve damage and a slightly deformed fingernail. It could have been so much worse, and we are so thankful she is okay. We know we had lots of people praying for her, so thank you!

PART TWO: SINGING AUSTRIANS

Uncle Max kissing Gretl's hurt 'fingah'.

So meanwhile, as all this was going on, Fifi was having dress rehearsals for The Sound of Music, in which she is playing the part of Gretl von Trapp. She has been rehearsing since January for this, and last night (Wednesday) was Opening Night. Sunday, Monday and Tuesday were all rehearsal nights, so Monday and Tuesday were a bit, oh, shall I say, hectic? Especially Tuesday. Luckily, I've got great friends who have helped us out so much this week (and great families for whom I childmind, who arranged alternate care on Tuesday so I could be at the hospital with Lolly). Sheila, Robyn, and Lee all helped out with childcare and getting Fifi and Jaguar to and fro as all this was going on. It's wonderful having friends who are there to help at the drop of a hat, and I am so thankful for all of them (including all of the friends who offered their help, like Catriona, Laura, and the list goes on and on). And oh, I'd be incredibly remiss not to mention family; Scott's mum and dad went so out of their way this week to make everything work out smoothly - thank you so much to you too!

Okay, anyway, back to Fifi's debut.

Little Actress

Last night was Opening Night. I dropped her off at the theatre at 6.30pm, and took my seat in the house at 7. A huge group of staff from her school were there last night, including her two teachers, Mrs MacLeod and Mrs Bannerman, and the Head Teacher, Mrs Ruddy. Also there were friends from the Parish Players, Pauline, Malcolm, Natalie and Arthur. Fifi had a good turn out of 'fans' (as she referred to them) last night.

And folks, let me just tell you, she was superb.

Okay, yeah, she's my daughter, so I might be a little biased, but seriously, she was so good! And the rest of the cast were amazing too. All the von Trapp kids were excellent, Maria was excellent, and the Captain was excellent. The nuns were excellent. Uncle Max was excellent. The Mother Abbess was excellent.  It was just fab all around. More than once, I had to wipe away a little tear!

She still has two more performances, tomorrow night and Saturday afternoon. There are two casts of children, and the other children are on tonight and Saturday night. I really want to see them, too, as they are all really amazing also. I just can't believe the amount of talent these kids all have!

But, as if hospital trips and musical performances weren't enough happening this week...

PART THREE: THE SPIRITUAL UPBRINGING OF LITTLE CHILDREN

Barefoot in the sunshine

This Sunday is Jaguar's Dedication at church. It's similar to a Christening, without the Baptism. (Scott doesn't agree with infant baptism.) It's basically just a committment to raise our children in the Christian faith, kind of how Hannah dedicated Samuel to God's work, without the leaving him to live in a temple thing.

With our moving date growing closer, and Fifi's musical, and then Lolly's accident on top of all that, I've hardly had a moment to even think about Jaguar's dedication. It's not going to be a big, elaborate ceremony or anything, but I feel badly for not having at least planned something special for it. I have ordered a big cake, which is at least something. And he's got a kilt to wear, which he better not poo all over right before church, so at least the photos will be cute. But that's about the extent of the planning for that.

Incidentally, anyone who wants to come along to the church on Sunday to see him get dedicated, you are welcome! (That is, assuming I know you in real life and you aren't some weird, creepy internet stalker.) I'll give you details if you ask. (Don't want to leave the details here for all the weird, creepy internet stalkers I apparently think I have.)

By Sunday afternoon, ya'll, I might just collapse. Until Monday when the work week starts all back up again.

And that's what I've been up to this week.  Phew!

Camouflaged

Where's Jaguar?

Camouflaged
Originally uploaded by superlori.