Reunion (with kids): it's not quite the same
My husband returned home tonight after two weeks of Army Reserve duty. And although it wasn't the first time he'd left me alone with my children, it was the first time since I had one baby on the outside and a full-time, all-the-time, work-from-home job. I have a babysitter 12 hours a week, but what usually seems like a luxury was laughably inadequate.
In the hours leading up to his arrival (a few hours later than scheduled thanks to an I-5 traffic jam), much though I missed him and his wonderful sweet husband-ness, all that I could think was how much I wanted to meet him at the door with my laptop all packed up and a few dollars for a beer, and run as fast as I could to the nearest WiFi spot without the kids. Or him.
Everett insisted that I watch him flip through the extras on the Monsters, Inc. DVD, or talk for one of his action figures; Truman was into everything and knocked over my coffee, my late lunch of pasta, my glasses, an entire drawer full of crayons and chalk (for the eighth time), a basket full of photo CDs that I'd just organized by date; and neither of them could keep their hands off me! I was just trying to focus for 10, 20 minutes on something. And not. Doing. So.
Reunions between loving partners, after kids enter the picture, just aren't the same. As a single mom I know and I discussed today: parenting alone is nigh impossible. It's no wonder our bodies were set up to need two of us to make a kid. Meeting the needs of a little individual by oneself is crazy-making. As Everett's poor Barney computer can attest (I threw poor Barney and his cheery freakin' voice across the room in a particularly low point. Never fear. The children were not in the room with me when Barney hit the wall).
I ended up self-medicating (we took that trip to the local coffee shop pre-reunion, and they have Hefeweizen on tap now! I love this town) and, by the time my husband arrived home, I was happy to see him and I didn't run for the hills. But you can bet tomorrow morning will find me high up in my coffee shop perch, completely sans young ones. You know. So my husband can re-connect with them. Yeah, that's it.
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