Train don't run outta Witchita...

In homage to one of my favourite lines from one of my favourite movies, I shall blog that my husband is gone tonight. His first night away, abandoning me with the two rotten children he has saddled me with (just kidding; and apologies for the poor grammar), he is, as the title suggests, in Witchita (no idea of the correct spelling and who really cares, anyway?). So, perhaps the trains don't run outta Witchita, but apparently the planes do. The boyz and I managed to make it through the evening, each throwing a tantrum of their own, but I survived. My trusty friend/sitter Heather came over to help man the ship and she danced with Brice and kept him generally entertained. I took Harry to Target to get a new mop and learned how fast you could empty an aisle when you had a SCREAMING infant with you (less than 1.5 minutes). Harry took his first non-raging bath tonight. Lovely. Now I am dead tired and thinking of turning in to face the morning. I bought a new NYT crossword puzzle book that i'm tempted to crack, though. I think I will. I know i'll hit a wall (what's up with the Peer Gynt clue that's in almost every NYT puzzle?) and throw my pen across the room within 15 minutes, so what the heck... Ok, here goes the first night alone. Me, Brice, Harry, and Will Shortz...