My daughter is my accountability partner.

Picture it Prince Albert, 2005. A young couple is watching a show called "Canadian Idol". The theme: classic rock. The young husband is...

Anyways... I've always wished that I could have theme music playing in my daily life. I would chose the music from The Golden Girls. Come on you know it. Laa LAAA laa-laa-laa-laa-laa du-de-du. Then when Dorothy goes out onto the linea it's du-de-du dee due, (up a tone) du-de-du dee due, laa-laa-laa-laa laaa laaaa laaaa... laaaaaaa......(fade to scene). When Marc and I are fighting it would be the music from "the windy night in Florida" scene. And that's the music that would have played in our house tonight.

I was nursing Luke and watching TV on the bed and Marc was cleaning out his bedside table. Luke was becoming increasingly troublesome and irritating as he was insisting on nursing still, but there was nothing left to nurse (if you get me). I asked Marc a few times to get Luke's soother, so he could go to bed. Marc did not realize that I was nursing him and figured I could do it myself. I was getting increasingly frustrated with fidgety Luke (who was doing his best to ensure that his mother has completely saggy boobs by the time he's done nursing), and Marc (who I thought could just get up, get the soother and continue what he was doing). I figured Marc was going to wait until he was done cleaning to get the soother. Finally, I had had it and I yelled (well, not really yelled, but raised my voice a bit -- but still pretty angry). "Would you just get off your butt and get it and then finish?!" Ya. Marc didn't like that.

Then I heard we heard a little voice coming from the room of our daughter who had been in bed for a good 45 minutes. "Mommy! Don't get mad at my daddy!!" Ya. I knew I shouldn't have said it while I was saying it, and my little accountability partner reminded me of the same.