Ronan is fast asleep in his boppy-chair.
He wont sleep in the bassinet any more. He seems to like the cuddled up feeling of the bouncer. I don’t care. Sleep is sleep, and it works for BOTH of us.
Brock left for work about 3 minutes ago. I’m writing because as soon as the door latched closed, the tears started. I know it wont be that much different without him here, but it suddenly seems so alone and quiet. Charlotte got 4-6 inches of snow last night, and is ill-equipped to handle it. It’s also cold enough here that any of the melt-off has turned into ice. So, please, couple my hormonal, emotional, terrified feelings of being alone with the fear that Brock is going to get into a wreck and kill himself.
Why can’t his damn job be like every other job in the city, and shut down when it snows?
And, because what would a day be without Ronan pictures?
I love this boy.
I’m going to spend the day in my room with him, I think. Some movies, my lap top, and a lot of napping.
My house is a disaster. But it will be there later.
Brock just came home. The power was out at work. It’s a beautiful, snowy day.