Hayley is here.

Who is she? She is a three-day old infant that my husband acquired and I only found out when I had to sign the adoption papers. He’s not even here today. He left last night for his ex’s birthday bash, which is today. Tomorrow is DW’s birthday. I have no idea what to get the kid. I am baking him a cake though. DW doesn’t like me. The feeling is almost mutual. But I’m getting side-tracked.

Hayley. She has those same golden-hazel eyes as my husband. It seems strange, especially since in August, around the time that Hayley was conceived, my husband was in Queens, looking at apartments for us. Hayley was born in Queens. It just seems too coincidental. I called him when she arrived, and I asked if he wouldn’t mind getting a DNA test done on her. He agreed. So Monday we’re going to the DNA center. He says that there is no way that she is his daughter, but he wants to put my mind at ease. He was too easy going about it, if you ask me.

I’ve made DW and my mother cakes today. That’s a start, right? At least I’m not in bed with my depression. I’ve been working out some and I smell too badly to lay in bed right now. However, talk about being a bad mother: I’m letting Chloe and DW make me a Mother’s Day cake right now. A four year old and a seven year old. I’ve only heard three crashes and two screams since they started though!