See You.....Soon

Here it is, 12:24 am. And I feel like myself again. I've caught up on my reading. I've cleaned the house. I've made lists of everything I need to do for the rest of week. Heck, I've even painted my toenails.

Has my evening sickness abated? No.

Have my children suddenly stopped bickering, whining, needing or breathing? No.

Has my schedule cleared itself? Actually, it's busier than ever.

The difference is- Dave's finally out of town again!

I know, I know, I'm horrible. But, damn it, the man's been home for two straight months.

Don't get me wrong. I love having him here. He's an amazingly hands-on dad. He gets more done around the house in two hours than I do in two days. But the strange thing is, when he's home, I have this need to sit and talk with him. And do other things. None of which involve cleaning, organizing, writing, reading or painting toenails.

But we're used to the breaks. We need the breaks. Sometimes, I think the breaks are the key to our marriage. We got married when he was in the Marine Corps, and he left for six weeks not a month into our marriage. And he's traveled for his job for the last five years.

I love the me time. I love sitting in absolute silence for more than ten minutes. I love reading a favorite novel for the fourteenth time and not feeling the need to share any of it out loud. I love making a snack and not having to make one for anyone else. I love having a blanket all to myself (at least until the little ones start showing up). I love remembering who I am.

He loves his alone time, too. He loves eating dinner without constant interruptions. He loves bathing without little faces pressed against the shower doors. He loves jamming on his bass as loudly as he wants without me asking him to turn it down. He loves watching the movies that I hate (middle-school boy humor type).

But over the years, we've also learned to appreciate each other through a little distance, as well. I recognize my real need for him. He realizes the emptiness that bachelorhood brings. I acknowledge his daily sacrifices (4am wakeups!) so that I can stay home. He sees my devotion to our family.

I couldn't do six weeks any longer. I need him now, more than ever. I need his insight and help with the kids. I need his companionship and back rubs. I need the adult conversation.

But I can wait a few more days.