Home Alone Again

After just talking about how we manage when Daddy works late or has to go out of town (and how he rarely has to do that) he then found out he would be taking a week long trip to Seattle.  This time, though I was very, very sad, I felt a little more prepared.  I knew some of the things to adjust and plan for.  I knew to start talking well ahead of time about how Daddy would be gone for a few days but would be back.  I knew to track his trip on the map.  And talk some more.  I knew to talk about feelings and start praying like crazy.  It’s hard on all of us but I’ve discovered it’s especially hard on the younger ones who don’t have the understanding of what “just a few days” is nor do they have the ability to fully express all their little feelings in words.

This time we made a paper chain in different colors (just because that’s fun) and with the words of the days of the week on them (might as well slip in some learning in there, right?). They tore them off just before bedtime so that they could go to bed with happy thoughts of one more day down.  And they wanted to make an extra link for Daddy to cut off himself when he came home (a great idea by TheOldest!).

I also circled the day Daddy would be leaving and the day he would be coming back home on our calendar.  Yet another way to visualize how long it would be.  We marked the days each evening.  We talked about how many “sleeps” we would have before he came home.

Then came the day to go to the airport (Father’s Day nonetheless).  We again, arrived with ample time to spare so that we could linger, play, take pictures, and have plenty of hugs and kisses.  I also made absolutely no plans for the rest of the day.  Well, no “have to get accomplished” plans.  I had lots of “let’s go have fun” plans.  We went to our local Krispy Kreme and played and picked out fun donuts.  Then we drove through a “rainbow” car wash.  Which everyone loved except for Baby.  He, of course, was ‘cared.

Then we went to a park just for a little more fun.  Though, I was saddened by how downtrodden they all looked at even the park.

Then we went to lunch and came home and played in the pool.  The first day was a success.  There were tears and hugs and prayers.  But overall, pretty good.

Then Monday hit us.  And it was horrible.  Lots of crying and fighting and not knowing what to do with ourselves.  I didn’t even want to play on Facebook.  I just cried and went to bed.

But Tuesday was much better and their Nana took us out for a fun night out.  Jumpy things at the mall, Barnes & Noble, Shorty Smalls… all good stuff.

And then, well then, I decided to take a road trip to meet up with a bloggy friend I’d had for years, but had never met in real life (Hi Wendy!).  And I decided to stay the rest of the week with her.  Yes, because we’re crazy.  But Matt and I had discussed it, we both felt good about that she wouldn’t be a mass murderer.  And I had a back out plan if it went nutty.  (She did too, by the way, which is too funny to me!)  But she wasn’t nutty.  At least not in a mass murderer kind of way.  And I will devote at least one marvelous post to that trip.

My girl also made a banner for Daddy when he got home.  And he in turn, bought us sparkly colored flowers upon his return.

Anyway, I recommend taking crazy road trips with lots of small children to places you’ve never been before to pass the time.  Because we just picked up Dad at the airport on the way home and the week flew by!  Plus we made a few new friends along the way!

Taken by TheOldest just before he got on the plane.  I was glad we got a bunch of pictures in the airport because I pulled up those pics all week for Baby to look at and we talked about how Daddy would be home so very soon.  We also called it a “Seattle trip” and did not refer to it as a “Daddy work day” so that he would not associate such a long departure with regular work when Daddy got back home.

We were so excited to have Daddy back home.  I mean, like, really.  I cried when he got in the car at the airport.  Boy, did I miss my better half.  I mean, like, really.

I Like

I like spring.

I like Daylight Saving Time (though it grates me to not say Daylight Savings Time with the “S” rightfully in place).

I like sunshine and warmth.

I like healthy children.

I like that my girl prays at bedtime “Thank you, God, for brothers and babies.”

I like lots of bright colors.

Like the new case for my new phone.

I like my new smart phone.

I like that I can post things while in town.

I like that I can take instant pictures and instant video.

I like that I can use the “swipe” feature (it’s my fav).

I like that Matt used the GPS thing while in Dallas nonstop.

I like that we referred to the female talking voice of the GPS as “his girlfriend”.

I like that it took all the pressure off me trying to figure out where we were and where we should’ve been going.

I like that while I’m driving I can use the speech microphone thing to speak my texts and statuses.

I like that Matt does it all the time and it never understands his thick southern accent.  Cracks me up the stuff it thinks he says.

I like that Matt’s solution to this is “Nerd Robot Voice”.

Sweet Shot ~ A Daddy and His Boy

To see more sweet shots click over to Darcy’s blog:
Sweet Shot Day

Losing My Balance and Falling Flat On My Face

A month or so ago my husband called from work and asked if it would be okay if he took a business trip for a week to Chicago.

I said without hesitation, “Absolutely.”  And I meant it.

Important side notes:  1. My husband doesn’t travel.  Never has.  He’s not military.  We’re never apart.  Where he goes, I go.  Even soccer practices are all done together.  We had to have a heart to heart with the kids that 2 of them had practice at the same time and we were going to have to split up.  We are not co-dependent.  We’ve just always been this way.  It’s what we discussed before we were married, it’s what we’ve purposefully chosen his jobs around.  He worked nights for a while and it about did us in.  We made serious decisions to make that stop.  Everyone told us our honeymoon would soon end when we got married, but my mother-in-law was the lone voice in the crowd that said oh, no, she and my father-in-law had been just that way for 30 plus years and it only got stronger.  She was right.

So we began the planning and packing.  The laundry washing and Chicago looking.

I wasn’t very anxious.  I was under control.  I was prepared.  I take the kids everywhere by myself.  I do most of the “doing” with the kids: baths, dinners, readying.  I had this.

I never even prayed about me.  Not once.  Matt, yes.  Me, no.

Pride anyone?

We got down to the weekend of his departure and I started to get anxious.  I was going to miss him.  Miserably.  And I knew it.  I didn’t want to be without him.  The few evenings that he takes off for “man dates” I knew were quiet pretty lonely nights.  So I began worrying some about those nighttimes of quiet.  But I consoled myself with thoughts of endless Facebooking and blogging.

The thought did cross my mind that I would be lonely during the day too when I couldn’t chat with him online or call just to hear his voice but Matt reassured me that I would finally be able to rule with that iron fist I love so much.

We rode to the airport pretty quietly.  I asked Matt what flight number he would be on, you know, just in case…

We got to the airport early and spent some time looking around.

I received a text from my mother-in-law “Don’t worry, God will be with you.  Tomorrow will be a lot better.  I know.”  And she does.  She is married to a once National Guardsman who left each summer for camp.  And was called up for Desert Storm, but thankfully never flew out to it.  She knows.  I read it and balled.

Then fought back the uncontrollable tears.

He watched us walk away and we waited until we got downstairs out of sight to collapse on a bench in a collective crying heap.

As I left the airport we made plans to go to Cold Stone Creamery (against my better judgment, but at Matt’s urging to “do something fun.”)  Then we picked up pizza on the way home.

I cried and cried and cried.  So did the kids.  Except the 3 year old.  He didn’t say much about it.  Like nothing was different.

We made it through the evening fairly uneventfully.  Matt made it to the hotel and missed us.

The next morning reality hit.  Hard.  I won’t take you day by day, but one of the shocking things for me was that the week all blurred together in a never-ending haze of work.  In addition to all those soccer practices we had extra trips out of town for soccer pictures and much-needed grocery runs.  I didn’t realize how much our days revolved Matt’s schedule and how important it was to our daily rhythms.

We talked to him often and I was thrilled that he was out sight-seeing.  One of my prayers was that he would not sit alone in the hotel room missing us.  That he would explore and have fun.  And he did.  I was so thankful.

Back home we ate out more often than we have since I was pregnant.  It was not a good thing.

I yelled.  A lot.  My temper was short, my emotions were high, and I could not get any sort of self-control.  It was not good.

I couldn’t turn to my Facebook friends or get real on here because I didn’t want the world to know I was home alone.  It was not good.

My three year old.  I did not expect the fallout.  Had no clue what I was in for.  He didn’t express any of his sadness, worry, upsetness in any actual verbal form.  He couldn’t.  He just acted out.  Like I’ve never seen.  He was more aggressive than any of mine have ever been.  Knowing the source was helpful only to a certain point.  And then I didn’t care anymore I just wanted him to behave.

I thought keeping things on our normal routine would be best.  What was I thinking?  I should’ve dropped everything and made it a party for a week.  But the messy house just made me crankier.  I wanted order and cleanliness.

The house was cranky, dark, frustrating.  There was no laughter.

Here’s where God really opened my eyes.  And I believe, allowed me to fall in the mud.  I thought since I did most of the work around here that we didn’t really need Matt.  Ugh.  I said it.  Come to find out I needed him so much more than I ever thought and for reasons I never expected.  He’s my balance.  He’s the one that keeps us laughing.  That makes our home and my heart sing.  That keeps us spontaneous.  That balances my judgment and law with his grace and mercy.  Our togetherness is a picture of oneness for the kids.  Marriage and parenting is an earthly image of God’s role for us.  God is whole and perfect and balance.  We never will be, but together man and wife are closer to what we should be for our children.

Without Matt our home spun off its axis.  Our world toppled.

I prayed more for my military mom friends that week.  My eyes were opened.  My heart was softened.  I was humbled by how many moms have to live without their husbands and keep on keeping on for the kids.

I’m more prepared with how-to’s for the next time my other half has to leave, practical things like focus on the kids, help the preschooler cope better, focus less on self, pray, pray, pray.  But really I’m just more acutely aware of how much my husband does.  How important laughter is to life.  How horribly prideful I was.  I will remember how falling feels.

When Geeks Get Excited

With the tvlessness and roof falling drama came the need for a new computer.  I know that none of those things sound connected, but trust me, they are.

We are satelliteless, monthly bill-less, but we now have dvr capabilities on network channels through the wonders of open source computer magic.

When checking out new computers and their prices, my tech-y hubby quipped, “I bet I could build a $1500 computer for $500.”  Uh oh.  I know a Parker adventure when I hear one.

He's so happy.

 

Hard at work.

 

My wired living room. Order will eventually reign again, but until then I'm patient with all the computer innards.

Sure enough, $550 later we had all kinds of boxes arrive with cool colors and blinky lights.  All I know is that I can now skip through commercials on American Idol nights and watch The Middle and 30 Rock anytime I want.  Really that’s all that matters.  That and PBS has become my mid-day friend.

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