In Time...

Today didn't start off as just any Friday. 
Today I woke up in my husband's bed in his childhood room at his grandfather's. 
Said room now holds wedding photos and an extra pack 'n' play. 

My husband wasn't there. 

It's that lovely time of year again. Bi-annual "outage season". It means long hours and too many days in a row. 

He started working (2 hours away) in early September. 8 hour days, 5 days a week. Completely manageable - he was home every day by 5:30 (although I felt bad that he had to wake up around 3:00/3:30 am). 

On September 23rd we celebrated Benjamin's 1st Birthday - and that night we hurried to pack everything from the party away, semi-organize the kitchen, and prepare/pack everything Sam would need for the next four weeks so he wouldn't have to rush the following morning. 

We're blessed that he is able to stay at his grandfather's when he works at this location. It means we have a comfortable place to stay, too much food, and time with family. However, I've been struggling much more than usual this time around. 

My fearless one year old

 Wednesday is the day we pack up and leave to see Sam. For some reason, Benjamin chooses THAT day to scream....relentlessly. Longest. Day. Ever. We plan arrival time to coincide with Sam's. We are all so tired by that time it's all we can do to eat and make small talk before bed. I'm usually feeling relatively grumpy - until I at least see my husband's smiling face. Thursday is a very long day...HOW do I entertain my curious toddler without tearing Grandpa's house to pieces?! Usually, that's a shopping/getting lost in Hermitage day. Friday is when it settles in.... Sam leave at 5am. I try to get in a few more hours of sleep. Then it's time to get ready, pack up, and leave.  I remember totaling the hours we would spend together. I think it added up to less than 24 hours in 4 weeks.

"building" a birthday present

Every week the drive feels longer and I feel the dread of an empty home and the anxiety of knowing it'll be *so many days* till we see each other again. My heart breaks when our little boy frantically climbs up to my lap every time the phone rings to see who it is, giggling away, hoping it's his "Papa". Maybe I'm more sad for their bond than mine? I don't know. We're halfway through it and headed for a much needed weekend for just Mama and Papa at the end of the month.Then there is also the very real anxiety I have with waiting for news of a safe trip to work and a safe return home. 

I've been trying to put this in perspective. My husband is not in the military - deployed. He is not on the other end of the country battling cancer, He is here. He is alive. He WILL return home. He is only doing his best to provide for our family - I know that this is equally hard for him - long hours, far from home, his wife and baby boy who adores him. I need to put this in perspective - all day - every day. 

In due time....half way there....