I don’t like to talk about it while I am actually going through it, but when my husband is away, I really don’t sleep well. He went to stay with his brother this week for moral support while he waited word on the prognosis on his eyes. So, the kids and I were here alone. During the day an evening, that is no big deal. We actually are pretty productive and I make a point to share some special time with them. It is in the night that I struggle.
It doesn’t help that the morning my husband left, I was sitting in dance listening to four moms comparing shoulder bruises and caliber benefits. I like to imagine that only in a redneck town can the mom-talk at ballet be about gun preferences. And it is not a conversation to which I can continue. In the moment, I just laughed on the inside at the incongruency of the situation. But that night I couldn’t laugh.
It goes without saying that I start by just going to bed late. The kids and dog are in the room—with everything else locked up tightly. I bring the phone into my room and this time I brought bug spray in an aerosol can. Then I just listen. And plan the order in which I will spray eyes, call 911 and keep the kids and dog out of harm’s way. It is not conducive to sanity to sit in bed, surrounded by peacefully snoring little ones and anticipate danger. But it is what I do when my husband is away.
So glad he is home! I think I’ll take a nap.