At approximately five-o-clock Friday morning my husband will be leaving me to go on his Man Trip. To do manly things. Like fishing. And who knows what else. Mainly I suspect it will involve a lot of sleeping through the night. That bastard. What? Was that out loud? Sorry. Mostly…
Where was I? Oh yes. I will have all three children by myself. I am a teeny bit with the nervous. I can admit that. For some crazy reason, or as I now believe, a moment of lack of sleep induced madness, I told the boys I would take them to Fernbank. Madness. Sheer madness. I may or may not have told them they could invite their cousin. ‘Cause really, at that point what’s one more child? But that really could have been a conversation I was having with myself inside my head. I dunno. Guess we will have to wait and see! They love Fernbank and are so excited about going. I love that it’s air-conditioned. What? I live in the South. It’s already hotter than the hammered down hinges and it’s only May.(although we have had a couple of strange days where it has been rather cool.) I need to pick up a few things before we go. Namely, a baby carrier. Then I would have both hands free! See the genius there? See it? The girl is good.
The hubs had been making all the appropriate noises about how he will miss me, the kids, blah, blah, blah. But secretly I think he is excited to be able to do things by himself. That would probably include going potty by himself. The thought of that would be enough to send me into peals of rapture. And did I mention the sleeping? By himself? Not having to wake up and feed the baby? And the frickin’ sleeping? Although I really can’t complain. I am going out with my girlfriends next week AND I have a girl’s only trip planned for the Fall. That involves outlet malls and lots of SHOPPING. And a Coach store. That’s all I’m saying.
As long as he comes home with a present it’ll all be good. I do love me some tacky souvenirs.
I miss you.
Some days more than others. Some days it’s almost like a physical ache. Some days it’s like a goddamned punch in the gut.
I don’t have any answers. And I think that may be the crappiest part. No one wants to talk about it. It hurts them too. I can understand that. I can barely talk about it without crying and it’s been seven years. Seven years. Seven years since some drunken asshole hit you while you were crossing the street and then drove off. I hope they caught the person who did it. I don’t know if they did…
It’s funny, but I can’t remember what made me think about you today.Just a little something in passing, I guess. I am going out next week, it’s my best friend’s birthday. You would have liked her. Correction, you would have LOVED her. It will be the first time I have gone out since I had Bub. I believe there will have to be the obligatory Bat and a Ball in your honor. She knows all about them too.
It’s the least I can do for the man who taught me everything I know…love you.
I picked up the registration forms for Dub to attend preK this afternoon. He will be going to the same place as Nub. To say that Dub is thrilled is putting it mildly. Mama? Not so much.
He asks me EVERY. DAY. if it’s “next day” that he will be going to school. And every day I have to break his heart by telling him that it isn’t time yet. He is so cute. And so ready to go to big boy school…just like his bubba.
I can’t help but feel a little sorry for myself. I’ve been home with him for most of his life. He’s my little pal, my helper. We snuggle all the times. Well, maybe not quite so much now that he is a big boy, but still. Where does the time go? I’m pretty sure I just brought him home from the hospital last week. Next thing you know he will be leaving for college!
Gah. At least I still have Bub around to distract me. He won’t be leaving me to go to school any time soon. At least I don’t think he will…but you never know with kids.