Oh it’s so hard to write.
Jason has been gone for over six weeks and I am feeling it, people. So many small and memorable things have happened these past few weeks, but have I written about them? No. Cause my man is far away and my fingers are listless and uninspired.
And I’m not the only person in the family who’s missing Dad. Rex wandered into the kitchen this week with his sweet, worried little Mickey Mouse voice. “Oh, Mom?” he said, “I, uh, I was just thinking’. I was thinkin’ that maybe…maybe Dad shouldn’t have gone…oh, uh, so far away all by himself. I think he’s really missin’ me. I think…I think I probably should have gone with him so he wouldn’t be so lonely.” And this weekend when we watched Chitty Chitty Bang Bang for family movie night Rex watched the parts where the Dad was playing with his kids and sat in the corner quietly saying, “Oh, I think I really miss my dad…”
Gah. Kill me now.
Aside from the sinking hole in my chest, the kids and Mother are doing surprisingly awesome. I give total credit to our routine of faithful morning and evening prayer and daily (sometimes twice) family scripture study.
Also the three month supply of Wellbutrin my medical practitioner (my big sister Kerry) prescribed to me after Jason left us here in the desert to fend for ourselves. Just keeping it real, people. I don’t think I could get through this without that kind of help right now, my kids deserve a super healthy mama and it has made an incredible difference.
But the thing that has really been the biggest life saver is Harold. Harold is my new babysitter. He looks mostly exactly like Harrison with the addition of wide rimmed glasses and a bushy black mustache. Harrison has never met Harrold, Harry is always gone when Harold comes to babysit.
Rex says Harold is “Just like Harrison…uh…only nicer.”
Harold is the sweetest, most patient babysitter I have ever had. He dotes on the kids and always has everyone happily tucked in bed by 8:00 pm, even on weekend nights.
Plus he’s super affordable.
When Harold first knocked on the door and came inside he gave us all a peace sign and said, “Namaste,” in his super deep voice. Georgia about peed her pants. I think it was the bushy black mustache, as soon as I suggested leaving her with him she burst into tears and attached herself to my leg. He might have whispered something in her ear and tipped his glasses down so she could see that maybe he wasn’t a terrorist and did, in fact, look exactly like her favorite brother Harrison.
In the meantime I’ve been busy trying to”make it home” around here. My sewing machine is getting some serious action, unlike someone else in this house. I finished my living room curtains, the ones I bought at the Goodwill. I cut off the rod tabs and sewed the chiffon transom tops to extend them. I’m pretty happy with the result. Four panels for $22. Nice.
I bought this dresser for $50 off Craigslist and decided to chalk paint it. I read and researched and got all hyped up to make my own cheap chalk paint. Then I tried to find Calcium Citrate at three different health food stores (supposedly the best mix in). It was 111 degrees outside, there was no air conditioning in my car, and I finally threw in the paint stick and went home to paint the darn thing with plain old Latex. Whatever. Harry finally has a dresser and it looks pretty darn good to me.
I have a stack of Halloween costumes to work on this month that include mermaids and satyrs and insects, plus a handful of throw pillows to recover and anything else I can think of to pass the time. In other words, THIS IS TAKING FOREVER.
Eight weeks and he’s mine again. Tick tock.