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.

**Edit**

Brock just came home.  The power was out at work.  It’s a beautiful, snowy day.