love and marriage

Kennen still has a fucked up foot. More diarreah covered crib...not because he is smearing, but because it's blasting out of his diaper. The doctor says don't stop the antibiotics because then the infection could get worse, yadda yadda yadda. I'm trying to keep him hydrated, trying to keep him off his foot, trying to keep him from pooping everywhere. I'm not only disgusted but I'm worried because this is my sweet boy and he still isn't getting better. Yesterday I hit my breaking point and who got the brunt of my explosion? My husband, that's who! If he had only cleaned the shit filled crib one time, or changed a diaper one time I probably would have kept my cool. But no. He was a smart ass and when I requested that he changed a diaper, he requested that I go to work for him tomorrow.

Oh no you didn't. Them are fightin' words.

I tore Jeff a new asshole and now I'm sorry. I'm a meanie. I could have said what I needed to say without being such a bitch about it. This morning I was still festering and then the weirdest thing happened. Jeff was nice to me. He called me baby love and beautiful. I was apprehensive and I asked him why he was being so nice to me. Then he said the best thing.

'It's ok, I know your just worried about the bud.'

blink.blink.

Then he continued to say,'Your crying out for sweetness. And here I am. Being sweet. Everything is ok.'

Um...yeah...I was so mean that I'm not even going to type what I said. I launched verbal DAGGERS, SPEARS, AND FLAMING PILES OF POOP. And he just shrugged it off. Hmm. how about that? He saw past it all and knew what I needed...and was a big enough person to give it to me.

Every day I love him just a little bit more...