Home Alone 2

It's next week. And we aren't grumpy.

On Saturday morning, we dropped Jo off at the airport. Three days later, we are still alive. No major problems. Not yet on a 100% ice cream diet. And not sleep deprived. I could probably do this on a semi-permanent basis.

In the first few days right after Vivian was born, except for breast-feeding, Jo and I split stuff up pretty equally. Since then, there has been a not-so-gradual falling into stereotypical roles. I cook. Ana cleans. Jo takes care of Vivian. Sure, I bathe her nightly, change a couple of diapers a day, feed her an occasional meal, and watch her for an hour here or there or walk her to the park. But usually Jo is with me when I spend time with Vivian. Not so when Jo is with Vivian - I'm off to work or play squash or soccer. And Jo has traveled with her by herself a few times.

So this is different. The operational aspects aren't rocket science or new. But I am certainly better equipped to understand Jo's average day. This morning, two events happened at approximately the same time. And putting off either of them by a few minutes could have been uncomfortable. So Vivian ate her breakfast while I was sat on the toilet. She sat next to me. Oh well.

It's certainly too early for Mission Accomplished. More of a quick note to let you know that we are half-way through and doing OK.