Today marks the longest space of time that Jason and I have spent apart in our 17 year marriage. Before this, the longest was last spring when Jason went to England, Bahrain and Egypt for work. That time he was gone for 16 days. Today marks 17 days. And we have another 12 days before he’s coming home for a short two-day weekend.
Going into this I knew it would be hard. I use military families as my inspiration. If they can do it for a year and a half, I can do it for four months. I feel weak and whiny saying this, but it’s really hard and I’m truly not cut out for it. There is a reason that the Lord intended families to have a mother and a father. I knew that before, but boy, do I have a testimony of it now.
Confession time: I have been a really cruddy mother these past 17 days. My temper is short, I yell a lot, and I’ve actually seen red a couple of times. I speak to my children in a way that I would never speak to another human being because anyone else would order a padded wagon to come pick me up and take me away. Luckily, my children don’t yet know the number to the padded truck hotline, but it’s probably just a matter of time before they figure it out.
I’m used to having a husband who, ala Superman, swoops in when I start getting frazzled and saves the day. He knows when I’ve had it and I need a little Time Out.
Husbands as good for other things as well, as I’m coming to appreciate. They’re good for back tickles, taking out the garbage, and long talks in bed. Mine is also very good at computer tech support. He is so good at tech support that I literally have no idea how to even download music onto my IPod. Nor can I change the ink cartridge on the printer or look up our checking balance on the internet. I can see I have now crossed the line on my confession and readers are probably beginning to think I’m somewhat dim-witted, so I’ll stop now.
After my father passed away, my mother started saying all the time, “Make sure you give that husband of yours a hug every time you get the chance!” Well Mom, you’re right. I haven’t hugged my husband nearly enough and I wish I could give him a big hug right now.
I also wish I had a longer temper and a shorter fuse with my kids. I wish I were one of those mothers who only spoke to her kids with a sweet, angel voice and only said loving and positive things; but unfortunately, I’m not.
I’m trying, but I have a long way to go.