In a state of mourning

When my husband came home after his interview, he had an extra bounce in his step. He was excited in a way that I hadn’t seen in a long time. I felt a huge lump in the back of my throat, similar to the one I have today.

This last week Adam stayed home, he is in between his old job with the company he has been with for seventeen years and his new gig. I thought that it would be nice to spend the time together since neither of the kids have school and camp. I didn’t really think of how his time at home would affect the following week when he takes on his new hour and twenty minute commute each way.

Monday Drew was outrageously poorly behaved. Even though it was a day spent with quite a bit of angst, I was so grateful Adam was home to help manage the monster. I was concerned that this was how the rest of the week would be since Drew is embarking on a world without preschool, a new camp, a new school to follow and some major changes with Dad minimally being home. As the week went on though, Drew snapped into a rhythm and we all had a great time.

We spent the days balancing out normal routine, fun activities and productive errand running. By Friday we have managed to totally be in the groove of us all being together. And besides one “minor” mishap (Adam forgot the baby in the car – doh!), Adam has been such a major help.

There’s no denying, I need the extra set of hands. And at some points, I will take any set of hands there are (be it the grandmother at t-ball, a friend at a mom and me class, or an employee at the gym). But it all comes second to Adam. I always prefer my right hand man to be my partner in crime, my husband. And because of that, I will desperately miss him helping out.

Above all though, I really like Adam. I like having him around for laughs, for cries, for sharing the pride, for sharing the frustration. And I’m scared and sad at the prospect of seeing him so much less than I do now. His “vacation” this week reminds me of those days where I can drive to the city in twenty minutes. It makes me so mad that most of the time it takes me an hour to get somewhere that I know should take me twenty minutes. Now after a week of enjoying having him around, I have to live the same life with him minimally being around. And I just don’t like that.

At some point, I’m sure not toooooooo far away, we will get into a rhythm like we did this week. We’re going to be able to get out of the house in the morning without Adam bringing up the “milkies” or making the bed. At some point I will learn how to start dinner with three children climbing the walls. We will all learn to survive. It’s the morning kisses, afternoon t-ball games and quick lunch dates that we will all miss. And that’s what I’m mourning today as I know what Monday brings.