You know, I love that my husband loves his job. I love that it gives him opportunities to go learn amazing tough guy skills, things that could potentially save his life and are also really, really fun. I even love that his work pays for all of this necessary training.
But why does it have to be in Florida?
Not only is he on his second family-free week, surrounded by amazing teachers and partaking of action and adventure and new knowledge every single day, but he’s spending his afternoons on the beach, with a book. And when the sun dips down below the ocean, he retreats to his room to dress for dinner. Dinner spent at whatever local seafood restaurant catches his team’s eye.
I know it’s work, and I know he supposedly like us best, but seriously, I feel like I have this wave of unexplainable frustration building up inside my body that wants to shoot irrational comments all over the phone line. No matter how much he might say that we’re preferable, I can’t help feeling like it’s a lie. Because right now, I would trade him places in a heart beat.
Maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t had me time for a while. Maybe it’s the fact that even though I get to go to the Casual Blogger Conference this weekend, I’ll still be working, and I’ve still been bending over backwards to find people to shuffle my kids here and there so they’re properly supervised while I’m away. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ll have to come home a little early every night so I can save on babysitting, which is costing me a cool fortune this week.
Oh gosh, I am actually crying over this. Stupid pregnant hormones.
All I know is Monday is Memorial Day, and if I don’t get away for multiple hours of honest to goodness pampering, I think I might scream. I feel like I need a good half a day where I’m alone with myself (well, myself and a pedicurist), knowing that Jason is watching the kids. Jason is changing the diapers. Jason is folding the whites. Jason dragging June to time-out every ten minutes.
I don’t remember the last time anyone offered me that kind respite. It’s been over two years since I’ve had a pedicure, I can’t even remember whether it involves my feet or my hands. And frankly, Dave Ramsey can shove it.
(Luckily, I’m pretty sure Jason will gladly give me whatever I want because he’s smart like that. No one wants to live with a pregnant woman on the edge. Well, not this close to the edge, anyway.)
Oooohh, girl, I know what you mean. Superman’s been to Germany twice, Italy, Ireland and Quebec for either business or army stuff. I know he was working, but he also got to do FUN STUFF and didn’t have the pressures of family life. And of course, I was a single parent every time. And sometimes, it’s not enough just to get away. You want to get away knowing that your husband is stuck home with the kids. Yes, we love our kids. And our husbands. But we also love JUSTICE.
See you tomorrow!
Alyssa, I love you. JUSTICE! That’s the word I’m looking for.
You need to sit yourself down in one of those massage chairs tonight.
And I’ve been so self-involved, I haven’t even asked how things have been going for YOUR class.
I know what you mean. I know I chose to be a mother. I know I chose to stay at home. I know I chose to work at home. But sometimes I want to punch my husband in the face (figuratively, of course) for being able to work on his career without the worry of babysitting or naptime. He doesn’t have to juggle. He puts in his time at work, then comes home to his other life and gets to have a clean distinction between the two roles, while my multiple lives are all mixed up with no boundaries! In some respects, he has it SO easy! But then, I truly am happy I get to work with my daughter in my lap if I feel like it. He doesn’t even have that option. But then, he can get a lot more done than me…grrr, getting mad again.
Boy Wonder Woman nailed it. Justice, it is! Bryce tells me to get a baby-sitter and get me some ‘alone’ time, but really I just want him to take the kids and do what I do. Supposedly so when I come back he miraculously completely understands my days, my feelings, my needs, and whatever else… really all I usually get is a semi-clean house, rowdy kids who think dad is the bomb and mom is boring, and double my work load just to get into bed that night.
It’s not always quite the justice I am looking for.
I’m pickin’ up what you’re throwin’ down. I really am. The hubs is off every (if I’m lucky every other) week to Monterey. I know he’s working, but I feel like he’s “working”. I’m eating mac and cheese and saving a buttload. He’s having the steak and lobster platter at an oceanside restaurant (paid for by the company). I’m putting the kids to bed night after night. He’s in a nice hotel room flippin through the cable channels.
It’s not his fault. ‘Cept it is.
Nothing easy about being a mom —especially a pregnant mom—-without her husband around.
I remember feeling like that when raising my kids and my husband was away on business trips that just SCREAMED of , yes a few classes, but then quite time, free time, lavish dinner time, guy time.
I hope you get that pedicure —whethere it’s your feet or you hands.
you’ll do great at the conference. Everyone there will love ya,
Stupid Eve and her stupid apple.
I know exactly what you mean about “knowing” he’s taking care of things. Nearly every time I leave my husband with the kids, he does whatever he wants to do and leaves them to fend for themselves. He plays a computer game, or reads a book, or . . . builds something. Crap, I don’t know, but I do know he’s not paying as much attention to the kids as I do. He’s not doing the time outs, the dirty diaper changes, the snack making, butt wiping, etc. All that gets saved for when I come home.
I actually got a pedi today–my third ever. Don’t go to Cameo Beauty College in Murray. Even though the other five girls in my party got great pedicures, mine sucked. You don’t want to chance getting the lazy, slow poke, messy girl I got.
I hope yours is much better than mine and that you get plenty of Annie Time soon!
Annie, I couldn’t love you more than I do at this very moment. Your post was the fuel behind my fire to ditch the hubbie and kids for a little personal rendezvous through Walmart, Ross, and then just to prove that my booger stained shirt could be seen in more refined shopping environments, Nordstrom (for the Half Yearly Sale…love, hate, love, hate). Say it loud, say it proud, DITTO entirely to my girl, Annie! Move to Hawaii already. I need you as my neighbor.
You officially need a hug.
(For the record, you have looked fab-U-lous throughout CBC. I’d never know about any frazzle behind the scenes!)
hmpf…i’ve thought about replying to this post for a few days and have decided that definitely, i need to say something. i’ve been on both sides of the fence – at the same time. i’m a retired active duty single parent mom so i feel i have some street creed on the subject.
on the side of the stay at home: no one, not even your husbands can take care of things like you do. no one can clean the house and attend to the whining babies all at the same time of keeping the sanity in the house as well as you do…ever.
on the side of the husband who has to travel, there is some solace in knowing it’s your spouse that’s caring for your very precious cargo – but only if you act sane when they call home to check in. there is not as much pleasure as you seem to think for the person who is off playing and getting away from all responsibilities. that is their most precious cargo far far away…they want to know everything is okay. sure they have the luxury of not having to do the daily chores – but when it was me, i’d have preferred to have a kitchen to clean instead of eating out with my fellow servicemen… not to mention – while you think it sounds glamorous to live without those responsibilities, it’s actually those very responsiblities that make a person feel whole and accomplished. those travel are sidelines…and WORK!
hmmmm, i’d choose my family over that any day. there is no better feeling as being at home, in your own bed…all the poopy diapers and nagging wives and expected demands of being a family ‘man’ to boot.
you’ve done such a great job of advocating the sexual needs in a marital relationship…i need to hear more of your cheering for your spouse providing for your family.
so please, annie – be the positive voice on the phone (and your blog) that i would hope to hear if i called home to see how my family was doing. there’s nothing worse than feeling like things are falling apart and knowing you can’t do anything about it. would you want to hear all that when you called home to talk if it was you who was on the road providing for your family?
Don’t worry, until he read this post he thought everything was peachy and that I was the model stay-at-homer. Hence the flowers. I’m not a nag, just an internet whiner.