I’ve been away from the boys for seven weeks, excluding a couple of weekend visits. One week remains of my summer job here in Mo-town, and then we’ll be reunited.
At which point, my husband will be leaving for the bulk of July, off to defend his dissertation. It’s only fair that he get his bachelor time, after I’ve had mine. I know he’ll enjoy it – it’s good to have a minute or two to yourself . . . to go to sleep at night knowing you won’t be awake until THE NEXT MORNING, oh glorious day! . . . to only have to worry about feeding your own self, and not a picky preschooler and a voracious toddler. He’s earned it, and I don’t begrudge him those weeks. He’ll be working hard to get that PhD under his belt, and I know having no kiddoes around to distract will help him a great deal.
Meanwhile, after this firm job is over I have a research assistant job, 7.5 hours per day, that I somehow have to figure out how to do while also watching my boys full time. I’m totally up for it. I can’t wait to live with those turkeys again! I just hope the professor lets me be flexible about my hours. The pittance they pay would not cover child care, so I have to keep my babysitter-hiring hours to a minimum.
Five more sleeps til I see my boys. Five more sleeps.
I know they’re missing me lots. Just dragging around, wailing and weeping, tearing their hair (what hair Liam has), lost without their mother to guide them.