Roman and I are braving the streets of Chicago on our own for a few weeks while I teach some classes. Ben couldn't come along this time, so while he and Doolin keep thing going in New York, baby and I are working on our traveling routine.
This means that while I facilitate, Roman is ensconced in day care. So far, he is braving it out. The most harrowing bit is keeping up with bottles and clothes for him (I swear none of those women k ow anything about breast feeding -- they show absolutely no respect for how hard each drop of that milk is to get and spill and waste it willy-nilly). We don't have a dishwasher or laundry, so we are temporarily on disposable diapers, which I HATE. And my make shift bottle cleaning routine would probably raise eyebrows in a number of circles.
But we are getting by. And since we haven't been home for 14 days and counting, that is good enough. Roman is happy. I am frenzied (and pantless - after a particularly sordid day care milk mishap my jeans spent a few days in hotel laundry purgatory). But as long as my baby is smiling and I make it to work before my class begins, we are winning!