I'm not sure what's wrong with me. Scientists are investigating as we speak. They have a pint of my blood, four thousand hairs (with follicles), toe nail clippings and a shirt I wore in the third grade. Scientists are weird.
Anyway, when Brett leaves me for large amounts of time, like say...two weeks, I sort of turn off the "I have a husband" and take on the more sombre "I once had a husband" attitude.
I like to pretend that for the time being I'm husbandless. The children are fatherless. I cannot rely on anyone but me. It's the only way I can cope with him being gone =) It's been workin' okay.
I also try really hard not to think about "it". About him being two billion miles away, about me being alone for days on end with two short people who follow me around with growling tummies calling me some weird name. "Maaaammmy".
But there are a few nice things about being a single mom for two weeks.
One: I get to say my personal prayers out loud. I mean, I could when Brett is home, but I don't. I don't know why, I just don't.
Two: I get to put my book on his pillow. This, for some reason, gives me great pleasure. Probably because I'm lazy and I don't have to lean over and put it on the side table.
Three: I get to have a saucy affair with this good-looking Pharmaceutical man out in Chicago. We chat on the web-cam some nights, other nights just over the phone. His name is Brett. I think I'm in love.
All in all, I miss him terribly, but it's not so bad. I hear other women complaining to the hilts about how tough it is to have their husbands gone, blah blah blah. Like I said, I don't know what's wrong with me, but it's not that tough.
Also, I think I'll lay it on thick when he gets home. With things like, "YOU WERE GONE FOR TWO WEEKS. YOU WASH THE DISHES. YOU CHASE THE KIDS. YOU WEAR LIPSTICK!" That sort of stuff. I'll make it seem like it was a lot harder than it really was. You understand. I'm a woman. It's my perogative.