I miss The Hubby, though not for the reasons one would immediately think. I mean, okay, I miss him because I am rather fond of him, but I miss him for so many other reasons. I won’t list them, and not because I don’t want to bore you or sicken you, but because I can’t really think of of them right now…my brain stopped yesterday afternoon, and has yet to reboot. I apologize.
Four more days, four more days. That is my mantra.
Four more days.
Tomorrow it will be three more days.
I can do this.
I can handle three hours of sleep, constant noise, teenage shenanigans, cleaning the house, laundry,
showering, using Treehouse as a sanity saver, repeating “Do you understand me?” eleventy billion times to all creatures in my house, and still maintain my insanity.
No, no, I can’t handle it, but I will because I have to. Because, handling requires grace, and I’m a liar if I tell you that I am doing this single parenting gig with grace. It’s like not having The Hubby around means that parenting turns into a set of stairs, and if you know me, you know I fall down stairs, a lot, totally not on purpose. I wish I could be that mother who flits about with grace, and poise, her hair looking perfect, and her food tasting like it was made in a gourmet restaurant. I wish I could single parent like a rockstar, and show the world how I am supermom. Then they could be adorn me with an amazing red, glittery cape.
But when I get no sleep, my brain begins to melt, and then seeps out of my ears. Or something entirely gross like that. The idea is, I’ve lost all cognitive ability to be sane, rational and consistent. Remember how I said that my brain stopped yesterday? Yeah, I really wasn’t joking.
Dearest Hubby, I’ve missed you so. Your absence has made my heart grow fonder, but it’s also made me a little insane. When you were cliff diving, and clubbing, moving going and napping (yes, I know you worked too), I was begging the universe for ten uninterrupted minutes of bathroom time. Maybe I cursed you slightly, but I figure I can blame that on the lack of sleep. I apologize, while some partners would adorn you with kisses, and make out for hours upon your return, I will smile a smile that will make you concerned for my well-being, and hand you both our beautiful, crazy, loud, and non-sleeping children, while I go and make sweet love to my bed. Except it won’t be sweet love, it’ll be sweet, uninterrupted, blissful, amazing sleep.
Oh sleep, oh sanity, how I have missed you.
Just for the record Hubby, you owe me a month of vacation. Or a case of wine. Both would be great, but I will make do with one.