Home Alone

     As I write this, the house is strangely quiet. There are no Star Trek reruns blaring on the TV or the sounds of video game explosions coming from the basement. I never realized how calming and reassuring these noises were until they were abruptly silenced.
     It's late. Very. Even Myriam has drifted off hours ago. I have listened to the other "hubbys" come home to their families. I have listened to the other little house move through their evening rituals and listened to the little houses on my street drift off to sleep. Their "hubbys" home, safe and sound and I envy them.
     My Hubby is in Oklahoma and although I am thankful for the job he now holds I still miss him when he goes. The money worry has subsided. The guilt over buying a dollar soda from McDonald's  when I'm not certain how we will pay the mortgage has been replaced with concerns over bumps in the night. Sleep is a luxury I save for weekends, when I'm not the only adult "in charge" of my children's safety and well-being.

The Hubby's standard pose. Either that or flipping the bird. He thinks he's funny....
 
   For the next two weeks I will be home alone; the only adult in a home full of children. I miss his strength and patience. I miss his ability to dry, lotion up and dress our children after their bath. With only one part of our team the children are left shivering and dripping until I can bath all of them and supervise the lotion application.
     Without the Hubby's calming influence I am left shrill and on edge. 
     Alone, my subterranean bedroom is cold (minus my space heater Hubby) and dark and too far from the precious cargo of children that I guard. I curl up on the couch in the living room that will be my bed for the next two weeks and wait for the morning routine to begin. No Hubby to fight for the single bathroom for two weeks. No Hubby to kiss me good morning  No afternoon phone calls and reminders to pick up this or that. Only evening conversations.Tiredness echoing from the other end, frustration from mine....
     It's the little things I miss most. The hum of his CPAP as I sleep, the smell of his aftershave on his shiny head. No Hubby to set out the trash or to forget to, as the case may be. No Hubby to empty the dishwasher and put the dishes away, wrong. No Hubby to finish the leftovers, because he knows they make me gag. No one to remind me that drinking soda too late gives me heartburn. *Ugh* No one to kiss me goodnight and good morning. No funny convos; only quiet.

I even miss the Star Trek marathon....

Peace Out!
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