Guys. My husband was kidnapped every day last week and well into the night most nights. It was horrible! It was horrendous. It was a nightmare!
Okay, so he just had to work a lot in the last week and I’m a big baby.
He’s at work by 7 am most days. Tuesday, he went at his normal time and came home at 1. Ante meridiem. He was back at work by 7 am Wednesday and didn’t get home until around 10 that night. Thursday and Friday, he went in at 7 am and was home by 4 pm or so. Friday night, he went back. He even went in on Saturday. Sunday, we had plans in “the city,” so he fought the urge to go in, but he was tethered to his work cell all day – just in case. And today? We gave in to the gunkiness that’s been building in our sinus cavities and let ourselves stay home together.
He also went to work from 9 until 11 tonight.
In addition, I heard on the radio that snow was coming Sunday night. It sounded like no biggie, some flurries – maybe a 1/2 inch or so. I woke up at 7 this morning, looked out the window, let an expletive slip, which made Tom inquire as to why, and led I forced him to look out the window, as well. We snuggled back under the covers for a few hours, with Fox on top of the fuzzy blankets.
The last week has been the kind that really get on my nerves, make me snappier than I want to be, more antisocial than I should be, less productive than I know I can be, and anxious overall.
But some really cool things happened, too!
We got invited to – and attended – a baby shower for some friends with whom we’d sort of fallen out of touch. I went to the library again and I’ve been learning some Turkish using the Mango Languages app on my phone. I went to church Wednesday and didn’t get catcalled on the walk home. I made up a pie recipe. I got to buy a book called Good Night, Darth Vader (for the aforementioned baby shower). I made a casserole that wasn’t green bean casserole for the first time ever. I drew a picture of Fox today.
And you know what?
Even when I’m gunky, sneezy, sniffly, draining, yucky, and want to do nothing more than stay under the covers, I’d rather do it with my boys than with anyone else. Today, we sat around, watched TV, played video games, ate soup, doled out medicine, and shared a lot of hugs. I also just read a fairy tale to my husband and he sleepily said, “You read good.”
We haven’t really been sick since San Francisco, so we’re blaming our sickness on visiting a city (again).
We aren’t quite country bumpkins, but we sure as hell ain’t city slickers, either.
Side note: This holds up until you see our respective childhood homes, which – at the time we were children – were both far out of town, with a yard inhabited by stray cats and maybe a loving dog, and surrounded by fields and no hope of neighborhood children. So, maybe we just have underdeveloped immune systems or something, thanks to our country upbringing. Seems unlikely.
I enjoy visiting cities and all they have to offer: museums, architecture, historicity, the general bustle, awesome Christmas decorations, theater, and everything else, but I know in my heart that I could never live in one and be happy. I need to be out sometimes.