DEAR DALE,

I've been handling this single mother thing pretty well.  I'm not the raving lunatic that I thought I would be.  I'm not crying myself to sleep every night missing you.  (sorry.)  I'm not so sick that I can't feed the kids.  I'm not on the verge of drowning your kids in the bath tub.

I am, however, sitting here pretending that Crew isn't in the kitchen THROWING everything he can find.  (yes, he throws things now.)  I have also discovered an ever growing list of things that 'daddy does better' than mom.  #1 fixing bike seats  #2 plunging the toilet  #3 lugging the trash downstairs  #4 dealing with perps breaking into my car  #5 setting the alarm clock...

#6 HELPING PYPER WITH HER MATH HOMEWORK  This one's a biggie.  It seems as though her 3rd grade math skills have surpassed my High School education.  I'm starting to think that maybe I should have dated a little less, and studied a little more.  No- that's not true, I don't think that.  But maybe I shouldn't have had those sweet little nerdy boys in my math classes do my homework.  I am aware that those sweet little nerdy boys have, by now, grown out of their awkward stages, are all kinds of hot, and ridiculously wealthy.  I like to think that I helped shape their future awesomeness by giving them all that extra work to do.  ANYWAY... we all miss you the most when I'm trying to help Pip with her math.

All in all- not so bad.  I would obviously rather have you around, (I REALLY like you) but never fear- I'm doing just fine on my own.

Loves.

p.s. I just heard another dish break.  I'll go take a picture of the damage.  It only took me a couple of minuets to type this- but that doesn't seem to matter.  The Tasmanian Devil works fast.