I didn’t post on Friday. Or over the weekend.
Not because I didn’t want to — just because… I didn’t know what to say.

The girls are with their dad all week.
And even though I knew it was coming, nothing really prepares you for how quiet it gets without them.
Too quiet.

I miss them like crazy.
We did a video call tonight — and Piper cried when she heard my voice.
My sweet, clingy, full-of-feelings girl misses me too.
Aubree even looked at the phone a few times, which says more than it seems like on the surface. That’s her way of saying, “I know you’re there.”

And me? I’m just kind of… floating.
A little lost.
Doing what I can to stay busy while the pieces of me are away for a week.

To make things heavier — tomorrow, my parents are having to say goodbye to their 14-year-old chihuahua.
She’s been declining slowly, but it’s gotten worse.
She can’t move anymore. Her joints are locked up, and she’s developing painful bed sores no matter how often we reposition her.

She still wants to be here — you can see it in her eyes.
But her body just can’t do it anymore.

We’ve all cared for her.
Feeding her, moving her, helping her to water — anything to preserve the little comfort she had left.
But it’s not enough now.
And my mom and dad are heartbroken.
If you can, please keep them in your thoughts and prayers — this is going to be incredibly hard on them.
She wasn’t just a dog. She was family.

And on top of that emotional storm, my bathroom’s in pieces.
No toilet. No shower.
The bathtub is sitting outside the bedroom door like it’s been evicted.
The toilet’s just chilling in the spot where the tub will go — because we’re mid-renovation, and the flooring is going in.

The plan is for the whole bathroom to be done in a few days.
And maybe tomorrow I’ll sand and paint the walls in there.
Not because I want to, but because… I need to do something.

I need to keep my mind busy.
My hands full.
Because otherwise I’ll count every second until Sunday when I get my girls back.
And the weight of missing them will settle too hard on my chest.

So for now, I’m just showing up.
In a house without laughter, with a missing bathroom, and a family dog we’re about to say goodbye to.
It’s a rough time — but I know Sunday’s coming.