Lately, I haven’t been sleeping alone. No, it’s not just 17 pound Darby Dog somehow stretching out over half of my California King sized bed. And no, George Clooney didn’t decide that Stacey Keebler isn’t all she’s cracked up to be and that he really wants a mom with a c-section scar. It’s actually TD. In the flesh. His territory is smaller, and so most of his trips have been day trips to Houston or Dallas where he’s back in his own bed (and therefore mine…) at night. I’m happy that he’s not living out of a bag, but it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.
Right now, TD usually wakes up between 4 and 5 am to get on the road or to the airport in time to make his morning meeting. He’s gone all day, not knowing exactly when he’ll be back, and then most of the time he gets home right at bed time or after the kids go to bed. So I have all of the weekday solo mommy daytime, and none of the evenings with Ben, Jerry and the Housewives. Some nights he surprises me by coming home early, and I haven’t made a dinner that was made to be consumed by both adults and children. There are nights when he announces that he’ll be home earlier than he thought, and we have plans with friends so he ends up eating alone. And other times I plan something for us to do as a family and then find out that he’s unexpectedly going to be out of town for the day. Like this Friday. Since TD was supposed to be working at home, I signed our family up to do a walk benefiting the Ronald McDonald House. But now he’s going to Houston for the day and he’s supposed to be home around 4. When we’re supposed to be leaving the house. And traffic from Houston will be a cake walk on Friday. Shit.
So I’m adjusting, and getting used to sharing the DVR, and falling back asleep after hearing that lovely 4am alarm. I’m enjoying kissing my husband good night and not missing a moment of the late night cell phone calls (and drops). There is a piece of me missing my blog reading and writing, crappy TV watching, and general all me all night routine. I can’t imagine having his life, and so I am glad that he’s happy to be sleeping at home, even if he’s still inconsistently in and out. Don’t “they” say if things stop changing, you’ll be dead? If that’s the case, I’m definitely living.