I am so tired that I am hiding from kid-bathing Seymour so he doesn't see me crying. I almost started sobbing earlier today, when Leelo recognized by name a friend he only sees about once a month--but that was out of shock and amazement. Seymour probably just thinks I'm in standard early evening Leave Me the Hell Alone grumpyfuck mode.
I keep forgetting what a bad, bad idea whirlwind weekend trips are. They were bad enough before we had kids, and they are several degrees of worse now. Note to my brain: we need buffer time before and after our trips. The kids should never, ever travel during or after their regular bed time.
I need to tattoo all of this on my forehead, so that it's reinforced every time I (remember to) brush my teeth.
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