Give Me A Break!

You all know my my husband travels. When he took his job, he didn't travel quite so much. Over the years, he has proven himself, gotten promotions, and increased the number of places he MUST go. In this same amount of time, I can count one time I've been away from home. He swears, when traveling for business, he's not having fun. But something about eating good food for free and not having to share your meal with a young child or listen to the bickering, whining, complaining or witness the teenager roll his eyes, makes me wonder what the *&^@ he's talking about. Who cares if it's FUN? It's FREEDOM. I know he's there working but come on. He has a bed to himself. No little feet coming in in the middle of the night just to let you know he/she had a bad dream. No said body climbing in the bed and falling back asleep all the while pushing his/her feet in your back and subjecting you to the sounds of him/her sucking on his thumb/her finger.
Today, this was all highlighted. Joe left on a pleasure trip. He actually got off work early, met up with three friends, and drove to North Carolina for the weekend. Their hope is to spend the weekend exploring new mountain bike trails. He spent many nights searching trails on the internet. He was well prepared. Now, he hasn't ridden in a few weeks and even that expedition was the first in months. So, I'm sure I'll hear all about his aches and pains for days after his re-entry into family life. Also today, I had coffee with a friend. She is quite often taking trips, leaving her kids with her husband. Today, she asked me to join her on one in August. In my mind, I was trying to figure out how in the world it would work. It's a Thursday through a Sunday. How would Joe do it? The kids will not be in school in August. What would he do with them? Would the house be a complete disaster when I returned? Probably. I was sick this week. A stomach thing on Wednesday. The house fell apart. Granted, it didn't have far to go. But it got there. And there it stayed. No one lifted a finger. Of course, there were plenty of complaints but no action. I reached my breaking point Thursday afternoon, after a day of compiling a list of members of our neighborhood swim team and all of their registration information, and assembling and mailing 106 newsletters for my son's orchestra. As soon as Joe got home, he asked, "So, were you in bed all day? The house looks like you were in bed all day." (I know, GASP! HE SAID WHAT?!)
So, I need a break. I most definitely cannot wait until August. But, instead, this weekend, I will transport two of my children to separate birthday parties, prepare for a third one early next week, get the third child ready for soccer out of town (to be transported by another family), and just try to survive without screaming too loudly. No promises. Just hopes.