I SURVIVED SUNDAY.
M was out of the house a little after 8 this morning and hasn't returned yet. Translation: I was alone with the girls ALL DAY. So we got out. We left a little after 9 and returned just before 7, L's bedtime. We ran errands and found a craft project and had lunch on the town and attended a very fun birthday party for one of E's classmates that happened to be located on the far edge of a different county, and came home. And Thing 2 fed and down for bed and Thing 1 fed and down for bed and I'm ready to pass out on the couch. I'm waiting for M to return home. There are phone calls to return and email to return and laundry to fold and I'm doing none of it.
Naysayers, SHUT UP. I know there are people who do this all the time; there are single parents or parents like my next-door neighbors, where she's alone with the kids every Sunday because he works every Sunday. But shut up, because this was the first day that I had two kids for an entire day, and we all survived with no more than the average amount of tears, thankyouverymuch. I had a lot of mental game going into today's preparations, and I think the knowledge of having accomplished this is exhausting me just as much as the accomplishment. But today was just Day 1 of about a three-week stretch where M is mostly gone. It's like my own personal Tour de France. Final standings will be tallied on August 8th, and awards will be distributed at that time. So today was a good showing but any congratulations would clearly be premature.