Yeah, so that little strike-thing? Didn't last. I knew deep in my heart that it wouldn't. I mean, I spend all day and night in this house, while the husband spends only a few hours in the evening here before we go to sleep; who do you think will break first? Why, DUH, the person surrounded by the crap, THAT'S WHO. And since I was the one constantly stepping around the junk, I was the one who gave in and picked some of it up. And swept the kitchen floor. And did a load of laundry. Etc., etc., etc.
I'm still not back to 150%, though. I'm basically doing just the necessities. I don't count dinner a necessity, though, because we can always have some frozen crap for dinner if I haven't taken the time to prepare something healthy, and I know Greg is soon going to miss my lasagna or whathaveyou. So all this week he's come home to nothing for dinner and had to scrounge us up something. He made a meatloaf! Can you believe it? I tried to explain to him that if he did something like that BEFORE I reached my breaking point, that it would be enough to keep me going and thus I would never reach that place again. That I'd be so, Awww, what a thoughtful/helpful husband you are! that it'd help me to keep my calm and to keep me from feeling like I need to go on strike in order to get a break. I don't know if that makes sense or not. But I'm really tired and can't think of a clearer way to say it. So. Moving on...
Greg's new job. We knew it was going to mean a lot of travel. So far, in the month or so he's been there, he hasn't traveled at all, as they took their time getting him through orientation stuff. But he's got his first travel dates coming up: training, in a state hundreds of miles away, for the entire month of July. THE ENTIRE MONTH. Not a week, not two weeks, A WHOLE FREAKING MONTH. Maybe there is something wrong with me, but I have a hard enough time just getting through a day without someone here to help (not that he gives me THAT much help, but you know what I mean). And this is why I know that it just is not possible for me to do the single parent to two kids thing on my own for thirty days. I would lose my already somewhat gone mind.
Our plan is this: we'd already been planning a trip to our hometown for two weeks in June. We're going to try to bump the dates of that trip up closer to the beginning of July, and then Greg will just return home after the two weeks, and the boys and I will stay there, at my mom's. She's assured me that she's totally okay with this, and I know she is sincere when she says we can stay for as long as we want. She misses her grandbabies and will LOVE having them around. And I appreciate her letting us stay with her, and I realize that it's a better option than being all by myself for that month, but I'm not exactly looking forward to it. My mom can really drive me crazy sometimes. We get along great, but usually after about a week with her, I've had it. It's mostly minor things, like the way she will baby talk to my 3-year-old, that get to me. But pretty soon EVERYTHING she does starts to grate on my nerves, like the way she washes her hands, or stupid things like that. I know it sounds dumb, and that I need to just shut up and get over myself, because dude, she's TOTALLY going to help me out way more than Greg does, it'll almost be like a vacation for me!
My only other problem with going home for such an extended amount of time is that Greg's entire family lives in the same town. And I'll have to go visit them and hang out with them, without him there to make it less awkward. You would think it wouldn't be awkward anymore, since we've been together for over 5 years now. But then I would remind you of the kind of person his mother is. And you'd be all OH I GET IT NOW, I'M SO SORRY. And you would mean it. I'll have to call his mother up-- she won't call me, of course; she'll simply wait around for me to call her and for me to make the plans with her, because she's incapable of doing anything herself-- and convince her for the millionth time that going out to dinner, while I enjoy it, yes, is NOT the ideal way to spend time together, because 3-year-olds, babies who are still nursing, and restaurants? Not the best of friends. She doesn't understand that that is more work for me than pleasure. Especially since I wouldn't have Greg there to help keep Jack entertained, and it's not as if SHE would be any help in that area. Or any other area, for that matter.
And then once I've convinced her I'm not going to take the kids to a restaurant, all we'll end up doing is going over to her house, where we will sit in her living room while she stares at me. She has nothing to say, ever, yet insists that we hang out. So I'll spend an hour (the max I can take of her at one time) talking to Luke while she stares at me and Jack gets into things he's not supposed to (she doesn't have any toys and it doesn't occur to her kid-proof anything). I won't stop him.
And I'll probably have suffer through this three or for times if I'm going to be there for a month.
Maybe I'll just fake returning back home with Greg at the end of the two weeks and spend the rest of my thirty days in hiding.
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When Rob was 2 years and William was 4 months, Paul went to visit his mom for a week, for his high school reunion. I thought I would DIE on my own, but by the time he came home I had to repress thoughts of how much happier I was with him gone. Granted, I was a little postpartumy. But when he wasn't there, the schedule was so much more relaxed! The house was so much cleaner! I had so much less to do! I had one less person to nurture and take care of and listen to! There were some awful moments (I don't know why I tried to give them baths, but I did, and it resulted in much chaos), but mostly it was better than usual. I think part of it was I KNEW he wouldn't be home each evening, so I didn't clock-watch.
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