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Saturday, July 7, 2012

I want my husband to come home. Now.

Why yes, honey, when your
father comes home I am going
to run away and then go
commit myself. 
As many of you know from my Facebook posts, my husband left Thursday for a week-long trip. To the Democratic Republic of the Congo. As in, 24 hours of travel, three flights and five hours time difference. Things are getting interesting around here, and I can't help but think of all those moms who raise children while their significant others are on their third business trip of the month or deployed for months on end. How on earth do you do it?!

So far we've had lots of treats. Popcorn before bed, ice cream and Wendy's, basically things that I wouldn't normally do if dad were around. As much as I knew I would miss him, I wanted this to be like an extended slumber party type fun time for us as we wait for him to come back. I planned on staying up late, working on projects, bachelorette-type stuff. "Cereal for dinner? Surrrrre!" So far, though, I'm too freaking exhausted at the end of the day to make any of those plans happen, and have done laundry most of the time. Lots of it.

My dear son... what can I say. He has apparently regressed in toilet training or just is missing his dad, I don't know - but he has literally spent most of the time since daddy left pooping. In his pants. Oh, the joy.

For some reason, it seems to happen at the most inopportune times. Like when I'm on the phone. Last night I saw him emerging from the darkness, coming upstairs to meet me, a wipe in hand and underwear missing. Panic. What were you doing down there? Is there more? How did you manage to find the wipes in the dark? I thought. I went downstairs to check and flipped on the hallway light - at which point the bulb blew out. Lovely. 

I've realized how much I need my husband around. Not just to help out with the children (although that's an integral part of it) but other things - like to motivate me to keep up with laundry. And not eat pints of ice cream for breakfast, lunch and dinner. To hold me accountable. And moving. The first day was kind of like a party, but now the fun has worn off and we're going postal. I mean, I cleaned the toilet this morning. I think he's rubbing off on me to the point where I actually clean when he isn't here. Wow.

In the meantime, there's always laundry. And after I did my third load, I came to the horrifying conclusion that there were indeed poop chunks in my washer. Great, now what?

And that's just day two.


Anonymous said...

I've been a single mom to 4 since 2008, and to 5 since 2011 (surprise!). I will say that it is FAR easier to be a single mom all the time than it is to be a single mom only part-time. I know it sounds weird, but the adjustment period is definitely the hardest. I don't envy anyone that. However, you quickly find strength in yourself that you never ever knew you had. And you realize that you CAN do it. And not only that, but be happy doing so as well :-D

Crist said...

My husband is in the Military. We've been lucky enough that he hasn't been deployed overseas since we got married, but we've had some pretty long separations. Since we had our first son, he's had times when he's been gone for a few weeks here and there but nothing compared to what some families deal with. I'm now pregnant with our second and he's been gone (or only home after our oldest is in bed) for almost three weeks straight. It is hard, very hard, and I am so tired (8 weeks left) but the best solution I've found is to stick to the regular schedule as much as humanly possible. Otherwise, everyone gets even more out of sorts and it becomes hard to adjust when he comes home.

Anonymous said...

My husband just got back from deployment and I have six kids. You can't do any of those grand things you have planned because you just have to survive. I don't understand it, because my husband doesn't do much around the house, he volunteers all the time and is always working on that next degree.
I think the first anonymous is correct, the change is hard. My dh could not help for weeks at a time, but just knowing he was there made me breathe easier and calm down. Even though nothing *really* changed when he left, everything did for me, just stress and coping wise. Make sense?

The Deranged Housewife said...

I talked to the mother of my daughter's classmate yesterday at a birthday party. She is 56, raising her five-year-old son whom she and her husband adopted when he was about a year old. About a year after they adopted, her husband suddenly died while they were on vacation. She said she never thought she'd be in her mid 50s raising a five year old. That was her sentiment - you just do it.

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