I hate it when Mike travels. I love the money he makes (they pay for all his living expenses and travel, plus it's all commission work the whole time he's there--can't beat that with a stick). But I hate single-parenting. Especially, I realize, on the first week of school. With exhausted girls who refuse to sleep. And a van to take into the mechanic and pills to pick up at the vet and all the normal stuff that comes in an average week.
He gets home tomorrow in the morning. Goes straight to work, but at least I will know he's in town and will, some time, be coming home for dinner.
Tonight it hit me--I'm trying to switch my own sleep schedule, the kids are pushing every single button, the ants are back in the kitchen, and it was still 2 hours till bedtime. Boundless ennui. There was no overcoming it. There was no going around it.
So I took the kids to Ted Drewes. Yeah, the intestinal yuck I keep getting on and off probably has a lot to do with milk (agreement from doctor, hunch on my own, etc). So I got a mini. Ate mostly only the pineapple goo on top anyway. Maeve had strawberry and Sophia had, gross, a mint sundae. Mint. Which means the gooey mint sauce, like marshmallow or butterscotch, but bright radioactive green, coats the whole top of the sundae. Totally unappealing, but she likes it. We sat in the lovely evening and wasted, get this, a WHOLE HOUR going there, consuming frozen custard, and coming home.
Bath, whining, out of bath, whining, talking to my sister-in-law (she wasn't whining although they didn't have any electricity so I know I would have been), cleaning the room, whining, scratching itches till they bleed (Sophia), more whining, lamentations, story, prayers, good night.
Now I'm going upstairs to warp the loom.