Bye Honey

Husband left this morning (yes, on a Sunday) for the East Coast for a work thing and will not return until Thursday night late. I hate these trip. Hate them. The week stretches out endlessly, painfully long with little to no help in sight.

But what about the ever helpful Grammy? Doesn't she do pick ups and drop offs and gym classes and errands and free babysitting? Why yes she does. Except this week she is gone too. And Grampy tries. He really does. But 4 kids is a lot for anyone, especially a grandpa. Plus he has things to do and is not as flexible as Grammy. And that's OK. These aren't his kids. He's not obligated to anything. Well, neither is Grammy for that matter, but she likes to do it all.

I spend a lot of time thinking about the logistics of a week without Husband/Dad. I make sure I am stocked up on everything so I don't have to drag 4 kids to the store. I try to be sure that I don't have to run any errands that will require hauling the children somewhere they'd rather not be. I dread the days ahead. I have no back up. Every fit, tantrum, drama, issue, homework assignment, play date, meltdown, dinner, diaper, lunch, blowout, breakfast, potty accident, brawl, snack, mess, clean-up, art project, crisis, is mine and mine alone. Just thinking about the week in those terms exhausts me.

Inevitably, though, when the children are all asleep, the house is relatively picked up and the chatter with online friends has slowed, I will realize that while I miss my back-up, I just miss him. I miss his quiet presence. I miss his work stories. I miss his hugs. I even miss him stealing the sheets. I miss him. And I can't wait for Thursday night, when my other half, my co-parent and my partner in crime comes home for all the reasons I mentioned and many, many more.

See you Thursday, Babe. I can't wait.