11

It's been eleven weeks. When am I going to stop counting the weeks? When will Tuesdays between 2 and 4pm pass without me knowing it?

I think it's time to get Kate to talk to a child therapist. Tonight Kate told me "I don't have a father." I thought she was confused by the word father, so I asked her what she meant. "Remember Mommy, my daddy went to heaven and now I don't have a father."

Fuck.

She gets the word father and she feels abandoned by hers. So exactly what I was hoping to avoid.

I've got a whole new layer to cranky today. Maybe it was the 2am sheet, comforter, pillow and stuffed animal change that was required. Or the 2:10am bath for a crying 4 year old that wanted to know why there was "tinkle coming out her bottom in bed". Or maybe it was the 3am load of laundry. Or maybe it's because I miss my husband. Or maybe, just maybe I don't give a rats ass.
Here's hoping for a better tomorrow.