It was so much easier when we were flying solo with the kids over the weekends—but how on earth could it be easier for Steve to hold down the fort when I’m out of town? Why is it simpler for me to navigate a busy weekend when he’s out of town or on call at the hospital for hours on end? The arguments we had after we spent weekends together often ended with one of us feeling disappointed and angry, and slipping into blaming mode. Our frustration would turn into hurtful jabs: You’re not helpful. You don’t make it any easier. You just make it harder. So painful. I finally said to Steve, “I’m
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