Before I begin I just have to say I LOVE this picture. I love it for many different reasons. The thing that struck me just now is the fact that Dubs's shirt is all wet. See how his sleeve is wet all the way up to his armpit? The ordinary person may or may not have picked up on this fact, but to me it sticks out like a sore thumb. That boy is always playing in the water. ALWAYS! In fact I think I hear water running upstairs right now.
Hold on a sec!
Yup, that turkey doused the bathroom AGAIN! I'm beginning to think he will never grow out of this stage. He's been doing it for almost a year now. How do I make him stop? You just can't reason with a three year old. He looks up at me with those big blue eyes and tells me, "I won't do it any more, mommy" with all the seriousness in the world. Then he tells me, "Sorry, mommy" and gives me that bashful, side of the mouth grin. Then he wraps his scrawny little arms around my neck and gives me a big bear hug. And for a second I believe him. But just for a second cuz then I realize we have done this song and dance about 100 times in the last week. I just can't figure out what happens in that little 3 year old brain from the moment he's hugging me close and begging my forgiveness to when he's caught red handed in the sink AGAIN!
I digress. That is not what this post is about. This post is about this fact that Mr Bird is getting on a plane tomorrow morning and he's never coming back. I didn't have the heart to tell my family and friends in person that we are separating, for good. I wanted to blog it here first to soften the blow to you all. I must say I'm not handling it very well. HELP!
Just kidding. He is getting on a plane tomorrow but it's not forever, I just wanted to mess with you. I know, I'm so mean. I just wanted to see if you were paying attention. Oh, good, you're listening.
He is going out of town for work until Thursday. That makes 4 miserable days without him. See, I was good at math in school, see how I counted those days super fast. I was in the top of my class you know. Again, I digress. What I meant to say is that I hate it when he goes out of town, especially on an airplane! I always have visions of his flight being high jacked by terrorists or the pilot being drunk or the auto pilot failing and they crash into another plane head on or any other bad thing that has ever made an airplane crash. All these scenarios run through my mind faster than I can count to 4, over and over again. I start to imagine me turning on the news and finding out there was a plane crash, then I imagine the phone ringing and it being the airlines telling me they had a problem. Then I imagine my life without him. Then I cry, a lot. I think I'm a little obsessive. I'm OK once I know his plane is safe on the ground. Then when he goes to his hotel for the night I'm worried he's lonely and bored with out 4 children to entertain him. I worry he does not have a cute wife to talk to him and rub his poor tired feet. Oh, wait, I don't do that when he's here either, TeeHee. I think I worry most about the fact that he is actually enjoying the quiet. He might enjoy not putting Beano in the corner for hitting Dubs a little too much. He might sleep really well in his perfectly quiet, perfectly air conditioned, perfectly childless room without me, a little too much. I worry he might enjoy being without us a little too much.
I hate not making dinner for him every night.
I hate not making sure the house is picked up before daddy comes home.
I hate that the sink might start leaking at any moment and he will not be here to fix it.
I hate having family prayers without him.
I hate that I will not have a grown up to talk to on the couch after the kids go to bed.
I hate locking the doors for the night in a quiet, dark, lonely house.
I hate sleeping alone.
I hate putting the garbage cans out on the street for the garbage man.
And plus I'm sick. I have to handle 4 kids for 4 days all by my poor sickly self.
HELP ME RHONDA!
How will I ever survive?