My husband has been out of town all week. Much like any other time he travels, I have gradually spiraled downward into a black hole of tired and crabby.
Monday morning it's all good. Tuesday I catch myself periodically taking a deep breath before having a frustrating conversations with one of my kids. Wednesday is the obligatory run to the store for dog food because it is the story of my life that my husband's dogs always run out of food while he is out of town. Thursday, at some point in the day my husband will tell me I seem distant on the phone and I will have to explain to him that he's confusing exhausted with distant. And Friday, I'm officially clock-watching for when his plane lands. This week has been no exception. Here it is by the numbers:
1 - The number of times my kids' snow cones hit the pavement after soccer.
2 - The number of times the spoon with my son's snow cone hit the pavement after soccer only to have him pick it up and continue to use it without even blowing on it let alone wiping it off.
3 - The number of times my car went through a drive thru to feed someone in my household.
4 - The number of times I announced at breakfast, "Who wants to buy their lunch today?" to get out of having to pack their lunches.
5 - The number of sleeping creatures in my bedroom on Wednesday night. We have a strict "not in the bed rule" but my children apparently think our wall to wall carpeting is good enough and can happily lay right down and go to sleep. They definitely get that from their father. The odds of me happily sleeping on any floor are about as good as the odds of me happily sleeping on nails while a heavy metal band blares in my ear. I'm not saying I couldn't fall asleep at some point after I got sufficiently exhausted. I'm just saying I won't be happy at any point in the process.
6 - The number of episodes of Good Luck, Charlie my sick kid watched while home sick on Thursday. At least this time when the school nurse called, it didn't involve blood or trips to the emergency room. Just a fever and a day of being a couch potato.
7 - The number of times I could feel myself getting slightly shrieky while speaking to various members of my household.
8 - How many hours of uninterrupted sleep I plan to get every night this weekend while he's officially on Parent In Charge duty. Holla!