Approximately, anyway. And not uninterrupted. He's not omnipotent, after all, and we do have two young children in the house. Michael fussed at least twice overnight before putting himself back down, and requested his early-morning bottle at 5:30 am. Then I briefly woke back up to register that Tom had returned to bed to fit in one last hour (or whatever Michael was willing to give him). Initially, it seemed that an hour was all that he was going to get, but Michael again settled himself, and made a second request to be retrieved at 7:00 am, at which point Tom got up for the day, and left me in peace.
The kids must have had a very quiet breakfast, because once I fell back asleep, I didn't open my eyes again until nearly 11:00. (Normally, the extra hours that Tom attempts to provide me in the morning are broken up by banging, singing, shrieking or crying emanating from the dining room, which is just down the hall from our bedroom.) I felt equal parts grateful and guilty, but everything seemed pretty under-control when I went downstairs to relieve Tom of his morning baby-care duties.
I put him back to work just an hour or so later so that I could go meet a friend for lunch, and talented man that he is, he managed to juggle Abby's lunch and nap, and Michael's afternoon fussiness with conference calls and work emails.
I took Abby off of his hands for a couple hours when I returned home; we went down the street to have a play date with a neighbor. However, the combination of two experienced parents and two easy-going toddlers made my afternoon a breeze. I spent most of my time chatting with my neighbor, and only occasionally had to get involved in what the girls were doing. Tom probably had more going on at home once Michael woke up from his second nap (he was sleeping when we left, which was why I didn't take him with me, too).
Clearly, Tom more than earned his half of the cupcake that my sweet friend bought for me at lunchtime, which I saved for after dinner. However, after I carefully sliced the thing down the middle and separated it out onto two plates, tragedy struck. I had used a really sharp knife to get a clean cut, and didn't want to just lay it down anywhere, so I turned to rinse it off and put it back away. That's when I heard a clattering, breaking sound. One of the plates that I had left on the counter behind me had fallen to the floor as Tom attempted to grab a food item from a grocery bag that he had placed nearby. And, of course, the plates that I had grabbed were two Christmas-themed ones, of which we
The sight of the smashed, ruined cupcake half and the shards of porcelain on our dirty kitchen floor made me want to burst into tears. Ever the calm one, Tom insisted that he was better off without, and chased me out of the kitchen to take the half that was left. I didn't enjoy it at all, and I'm still feeling pretty depressed about the whole thing.
And ridiculously sleepy. Why so sleepy? I got ten hours last night!
On the plus side, two things of note occurred today:
1. Abby tried, for the second day in a row, to remove her diaper. This time, Tom took the opportunity to ask her if she wanted to "go potty." She said, "yes," with some excitement. I escorted her to the bathroom and sat with her for about five minutes. I was quite sure that nothing would come of it, and nothing did, but it was nice to see her showing interest. Maybe potty-training is a possibility that lies somewhere on the horizon, after all. Yay?
2. Michael took one step before falling down into a crawl. I guess we're officially on "Walk Watch," now.