The Dad left before 5 am this morning. He and his (older) brother are on a road trip to see their cousin and their terminally ill aunt. I don't begrudge The Dad that time. I am counting the seconds until I am not the only line tethering my family to this world. Not that they are well grounded when the Dad his here- But at least, in the back of my mind, relief is minutes, hours, a day away. He won't be back until Thursday. More than a day, is more I can put my mind around.
Hope went out with us to three different public places yesterday. Each time The Dad wasn't with us, gabbing with a friend or what ever, Hope threw a tantrum. Not a rage, not a meltdown. A tantrum. No adrenaline, no cortisone. A totally for show tantrum, for the sole purpose of embarrassing me. I didn't let her embarrass me, but by the time we got home, I was bone weary.
We stayed home all day today. They are off tomorrow. I think we will stay home tomorrow, too. I told Hope that I can not stop her from doing her wango tango. What I can do is remove the temptation of having an audience to play for. She will not go out in public with me until I am convinced she will chose to behave.
GB has a cold, I have bronchitis. A couple of days in my warm house with my fireplace is just what I need. The girls are asleep and in five minutes or so, I will join them. One day at a time.