When Daddy's Gone

The night before he leaves is always the worst.  Last night was the worst of the worst because I picked a fight.  I don't really know what I was even upset about, but my guess is that it was probably something stupid and completely unimportant.  Maybe I thought that if we were fighting and not really talking to one another, saying goodbye wouldn't be so difficult.

Instead, it only made it worse. 

I mean, we made up and all was right with the world once again before it was even bedtime, but it still didn't change the fact that he was leaving and soon.  He played with the kids a lot last night, even more than he usually does.  Sometime I forget how hard it must be for him to be away from them for weeks at a time.  Meanwhile, I fantasize about a weekend away from them for a change! 

But I digress.  My point is that the night before my husband leaves for China really sucks.  There's this tension in the air that just sits there, hovering over everything you're doing and making you feel uncomfortable.  And then we have to say our goodbyes before we fall asleep because he's setting his alarm to go off at the unholy hour of 2:45 am so he can leave for the airport in plenty of time because there's some stupid rule where you have to be checked in for your flight no less than an hour before its scheduled departure or you're not getting on that plane, a fact that he found out the hard way when he got stuck in traffic on his way to O'Hare one time and arrived a mere 55 minutes before his flight and was forced to stay overnight in Chicago to await the next day's flight to Shanghai.  Yeah....this gal's not really waking up at 2:45 for much now that the baby's not a newborn, so goodbyes must be said the night before.  No fun.

So now we're on Day 1 of this installment of "Business Trip Widow."  I honestly don't know how women who have husbands who are gone all the time handle it.  I'm thinking of the military wives who are left alone with their children for years while their husband is off fighting a war, often times having no way of knowing if he's dead or alive.  I am in awe of those chicas.  At least I know what day my man will be home and what he'll be doing while he's gone and it certainly doesn't involve using a weapon of any kind.  Hallelujah.

It does mess up my world something fierce though.  I had to ask off for a couple shifts of work....again.  My mother is coming over for a few days to watch the kids so I didn't have to ask off for all my shifts.....again.  What really gets tough is how all the little things that we do so well as a team don't even come close to working when I'm by myself.  For example, I'm staring at two baskets of laundry that need folding.  I was about to start on them when I decided to blog instead, but let's forget about that for a moment.  Usually this is how it would go.  The boys are in bed, Evan would enjoy whatever dumb show he chose to watch on TV while he quickly folded those two baskets of laundry, leaving me free to go downstairs and work out on the Wii with enough time to spare before Castle comes on.  Laundry's folded, Mom's done her exercise, Nathan Fillion on the tube, everyone's happy.

Only tonight....I'm going to fold the laundry, finish the dishes, tidy up the living room after my toddler tornado demolished it, and then maybe stay awake long enough for Castle.  I really don't see the Wii in my future for this evening.  I'm really not feeling the greatest anyway, so maybe that's a good thing.

I just really hate it when he's gone. 

I think that's all I really meant to say.