I left my husband

Poor man is eating on his own, batchin' it for a few days. I'm at my parents' house while my sister is visiting from Seattle. I miss my husband, but somehow there's something fun for me about being "home." I feel like a kid, even though I brought my own kid. I sleep in my old bed, I read my old diaries from high school for laughs, look at my old yearbooks, that kind of thing. I'm sadly nostalgic. The other thing I like is that normally when Steve and I come together, we're here for 2 days and gone again, whereas now I get to be here for almost a week and not feel rushed. Last night my dad rubbed my back and my mom made me a margarita. Oh yeah. Of course, that was sort of to counteract the effects of my baby screaming from Shafter to Selma (about an hour for those of you not familiar with the good ol' San Joaquin).