What Goes On... When Daddy's Gone

Not bad, Michelle. You did it. And the house it still standing.

As I relax here on the couch and sip a glass of well-deserved cheap wine, I'm amazed that I even feel like typing this. After any and all previous three-day stretches when Steve was away on business, I was ready to throw in the towel.  I remember one particular time that Steve called from Denver, only to hear me breaking down in tears and sobs of despair.  One, two, three, then four, and now five little boys... and one tired mama.  Who wouldn't  be at wit's end if your soulmate and trusty fallback was several states away?

But not tonight.

Tonight I am contented, inspired, and victorious.  Tonight I'm rewriting history.

I didn't have big plans for the week.  Let's face it, on any given two-parent day, I'm happy just to keep dishes out of the sink and clean underwear on ten cute little cheeks (I mean eight... Zachy still wears diapers and Steve's butt is not that cute.)  And I was trying to pull through a couple colds and subsequent nasty sinus infection to boot.  The timing just didn't seem fair.  So, knowing that my handsome husband would be away for a few days, I designed a dinner plan:  mac 'n cheese, hot dogs, and fast food.  Sounds bland and lazy, but you experienced moms know it:  these are the meals that make you a hero!   Mornings and bedtimes were my next challenge.  Try waking, dressing, feeding, grooming, and hauling three sleepy bears off to school in the cold with two attention-hungry brothers in tow.  Well, I did it.  And somehow they all drifted off to dreamland each night, too.  With just Mom to tuck them in.  (Okay, okay... so we were just a little past bedtime!)

So, we have managed to get through each and every day, and I didn't get any calls from school about children sticking beans in their ears, or cutting their hair during art time, or saying "peanuts" several times really fast at lunch because it sounds like something else.  I think I even did a few loads of laundry...

But Monday evening, the phone is ringing off the hook, and a phenomenon I hadn't envisioned starts to unfold.  And my attention is drawn to another time-sensitive matter.  Wait a minute, boys.  This is a call about the van...

That night I answered a handful of calls, and patiently restated much of what the callers should have read in our ad.  And in between servings of grilled cheese and PB&J (well, I changed the dinner plan...) I began to wheel 'n deal!  The heat picked up on Tuesday, and I soon realized that maybe I should find out how to get my hands on the van's title, in case, just in case, we would soon have to sign it over.  But you see, in recent years, Kansas decided that paper was a thing of the past and that all new cars would be titled electronically.  Ugh.  So I spent too much time researching the Department of Revenue's website to understand how, if and when we were to sell it, we could transfer ownership.

Good thing, because Tuesday evening an excited couple delivered earnest cash and promised that they, their two boys, and their big friendly dog, would make a good new home for our MPV.  (Ssssh!  Don't tell the boys...  David is having a hard time with the idea of selling.  "We've had that van since I was a baby!" he cried.  I guess someday he'll understand the stigma of minivans...)

So now it's Tuesday, and so far the kids are still fed and dressed (except at home... they like to run around in their tighties,) I single handedly sold our old van (for not a penny less that it was listed, mind you,) and we have successfully closed each evening with heartfelt prayers and a decade of the rosary.  Can you believe?

Don't get me wrong; the boys are really missing their daddy.  No one can tell a Daddy Jedi story, give three baths and two showers in ten minutes, whip up a batch of scrambled eggs and ham, or tickle tummies with a whisker face--no one can do these things like Steve.  And I'm starting to go into withdrawals for adult conversation and those put-me-to-sleep neck and shoulder rubs I get every night.  But I have an idea that will cap off this daddy-less stint with three cheers for Mommy--a plan that, if it's successful, will earn me a glass of cheap wine after bedtime.

When Alex and David sauntered out to the van (are you getting confused yet?  This is the new one...) after school today, they were taken aback with the rhythms of Collective Soul.  "Whoa, Mommy!" Alex cried (see... he still calls me "Mommy.") "What are you listening to?!  I didn't know you liked ROCK!!!  I thought you only listened to that Spanish stuff.. [topic of a future blog post]  TURN IT UP!  THIS IS GREAT!!!"

"Boys," I hollered to the back seat.  "Strap in... and give me your orders.  I'm taking you to Spangle's for dinner, now.  You'll do your homework while you're eating, and then I'm going swimming with you!"  Yeah, we're breaking all the rules...  Dinner at 4, pop and french fries on the table with Phonics, Mom's gonna squeeze her winter thighs into a swimsuit...  What's next?

...and we had a blast.  Stuck Zachy in the KidZone of our local YMCA and had a wonderful thirty minutes of goofy Mom-and-Boys Time before swim lessons.  And as we were leaving, words I thought I would never hear came forth from the lips of my ten year-old:  "I'm having SO MUCH FUN today... and I'm not even playing video games!"  Believe me, to hear that was well worth three days without my husband.

"Mommy," Alex asked as we started towards home.  "You are just so happy tonight.  How come?"

Because you, my little Prince Charmings, are my everything.  This week you treated me like a Queen.  And tonight my King returns home.