Sundays

Sundays are always the worst. For everybody at every age. If you’re a kid, you worry about your homework. If you’re an adult you dread going back to work. Everybody dreads having to wake up Monday morning after sleeping in on Sunday. You dread the inevitable Sunday-night insomnia. Now I dread my husband going back to work leaving me all alone with the baby for long stretches of time.

It’s not that I don’t know what to do or the baby is particularly high-maintenance. He’s really pretty good. At least that’s what I’ve surmised from other peoples horror stories of The Parenthood. I’ll be fine on Monday, I always am. But I’m still always scared and a bit sad on Sundays.

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