The short version? In the vicinity of the fifth circle of hell.
I am stranded in a seven hundred and forty four square foot apartment with two parental units, a one-toothed baby and a seventy three pound Labrador retriever.
Note that husband is conspicuously absent.
No I have not divorced him. Thank you for thinking the worst. Husband is away on a business trip. This is probably code for secret family, but I’ll get a t-shirt out of the deal so it’s a win.
Before you start feeling sorry for me I should mention this was all my brilliant idea. When husband sprung it on me that he had to travel “on business” I hatched an elaborate plan to drive to San Francisco together first so that I didn’t have to spend three days by myself with a baby and a dog in Reno.
Because I am a chicken. I am afraid the baby and dog will conspire in his absence in a diabolical plot to overthrow me. It wouldn’t take much. A sternly worded memo and I would be outta there…
But instead I am here, Husbandless in San Francisco. Like Sleepless in Seattle only with diapers. Ones I have the pleasure of dunking in the toilet before I haul them to a laundromat eight blocks way.
And I’m feeling especially vulnerable due to the whole Prince William engagement. Not because I’ve been pining for some commitment-phobic prince mind you. No, because it reminds me of the sugar daddy nice Jewish boy that got away. I bet when Mr.Brin travels “on business” the Missus has a whole gaggle of servants to assist with baby rearing…
I guess what I’m saying is my husband must be of the rare sort that helps out a ton, or else why would I be so helpless without him?
Hurry home husband.
And just in case I lose my marbles completely before you get back, I wear a size fourteen straight jacket.
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Rookie mistake. Husband is away, and I know! I’ll go stay with my parents! The good news is that you won’t do this more than once.
Hang in there!
Absofuckinluteley I am a rookie no more. Thank you I’m hanging…hopefully not from the rafters.
I’ve been eyeing Seryozha too in case things don’t work out with Mr. B. I think, actually, Mr. B has been eyeing him too in case things don’t work out with me.
Hang tight! At least your mom can now take care of, at 3 am, the baby she’s doubtlessly guilted you into, right, riiiight?
P.S. Where is husband? If it’s anywhere in the Southern Hemisphere, then secret fam for sure.
Yeah the day Seryozha went off the market was a sad day for hopeful nice Jewish girls everywhere…
Your comment leads me to the conclusion that I must blog more about mother, the image of my mom taking care of the baby at 3am is absolutely hilarious…there she is in the middle of frozen over hell with piggies flying all around!
See next time, you need to make the family come to you. Then you get to stay in the comfort of your own house.
Have you learned nothing from my plight?
Family=useless, hired help=priceless.
You’re welcome.
I agree with Jen. You THINK you want to get out of the house, but trust me, it’s far, far better to be on your home turf.
And I hate to tell you this, but the baby and dog have already hatched their plot. They’re just waiting to initiate it until you get tired enough. Their alliance is stronger than almost any other bond. It’s forged from food and the shared love of chew toys.
I am frightened to think that I haven’t yet reached “tired enough” shudder, shudder!
Be strong lady – you can outwit the toothless baby and 73# dog!! Just don’t let them see you scared!!
I’ve moved past scared!
Did you fall for that? Maybe they will too…
Can’t you just have the dog watch the baby? Solves both problems at once.
Makes sense, Vika. Isn’t that what the parents did in Peter Pan?
You? Are a genius.
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The straight jacket is on it’s way! I took the liberty of buying you one just in case. I hope you like white!
Now I’ll be crazy and look like Shamu at a wedding. Thanks a lot.
Hang in there. Wish I was closer to SF, we could get out and brave those crazy streets with the kids together
You are so sweet thank you!
Playing single mom is tough! My hubby travels for work too, he’s usually gone at least once a month, but there was a really bad period where he was gone for almost 6 weeks straight. It was hell.
He was only gone for three days, I am a big fat whiny baby and am shutting up now.
How I wish I was there with you, though, we run the risk of wishing our husbands would never come back, all the fun we’d have.
tweet, email, post, blog…all tht you can. we are all here..
Next time I will just stay with you, kay?
I feel your pain, grasshopper. But a truly enjoyable post nonetheless. Husbandless In San Francisco. That’s funny. Sounds like you married a keeper. And yay! I get to meet Yuliya in person this week! And a one-toothed baby!
…worried you haven’t blogged in a few days. Everything still okay???
xoxo,t
Oh, I can’t wait to meet you and your one-toothed baby! Your plan sounded great to me….until I tried to remember what it would have been like years ago, when mine was little and hubs traveled all the time. Ugh, maybe not such a fun adventure after all (t-shirt had better be good!).
Those hotel rooms start to shrink after having children I’m sure of it. With three now… and of course one on a pull out one one a cot and one in the bed (because they refuse to sleep togther…too hot, she kicks etc) You now have nowhere to sleep. Its just all downhill from here. I’m always around for a little pick me up if you need it!
Dana
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[...] A disruption of regular diet or routine; husband traveling. See husbandless. [...]