Michael is out of town for three nights, installing and testing software at some big company in Virginia.
Many wives, whether they have been married for a few months or several years, state that they like a night or two alone once in a while. Distance does, as the cliche goes, make the heart grow fonder. And it is kind of nice to have full control over the remote, of when the lights go out, and what kind of bachelor-days food to revert to for dinner. But I always hate to see him go.
I'm not exceptionally worried that something will happen, though the thought does hang in the back of my mind. He will have two plane commutes and a lot of driving in unfamiliar territory before I see him a few days later. And I, well, I'm 8 months pregnant. But even this doesn't quite pinpoint why I get alternately crabby and emotional the night before he leaves, and why I bite my quivering lip when he pulls out of the driveway in the morning. Am I that much of a baby?
No, I don't think it's that. I kind of like being reminded of the challenges of managing everything on my own. After all, I was Miss Independent until age 28. Giving it a go alone once in a while gives me assurance that I'm not helpless when I am left to do the things he usually manages around the house. I acutally located a Phillips screwdriver on my own today, and accomplished lawn maintenence just before sunset.
I think I have a hard time when he leaves because he is such an amazing husband; when he's gone, I just plain miss him. (Note to readers: "amazing" is an overused, muted word. I actually referred to Microsoft Word's Thesaurus tool to find an adequate replacement, and nothing seems to quite express how great my husband is, so I leave you with "amazing" and trust that you will know that I mean really, really amazing).
He makes me put my feet up when I get home. He bought me flowers on Mother's Day. When I was sick with a stomach virus and instructed to eat nothing but bananas, rice, applesauce or toast for 5 days, he vowed that he would eat the same things. And sure enough, he made a mean bowl of rice for dinner each night. On a busy night at work, I returned home to find that he had cleaned every corner of the house until it was gleaming. He reads pregnancy books, and brought Parenting magazines with him on his work trip. He has never called me over-emotional, though he had every right to. Every Saturday morning, he gets up and drives to Kwik Trip and brings back the chocolatiest donuts and chocolate milk and we have breakfast in bed. He has made every OB appointment, even though they are now weekly and two hours long. With great physical effort, he shoves compression stockings on my legs every night, and still calls me beautiful. He bought me an armload-full of new maternty clothes to help me feel confident.
He always holds my hand and opens the door for me.
I write this sitting in the middle of our king-sized bed, which I have all to myself right now. And Michael doesn't need to wake up with my snoring or 6 trips to the bathroom tonight. But I am missing a goodnight hug and kiss from my most amazing husband, who is going to be one amazing Dad.
Many wives, whether they have been married for a few months or several years, state that they like a night or two alone once in a while. Distance does, as the cliche goes, make the heart grow fonder. And it is kind of nice to have full control over the remote, of when the lights go out, and what kind of bachelor-days food to revert to for dinner. But I always hate to see him go.
I'm not exceptionally worried that something will happen, though the thought does hang in the back of my mind. He will have two plane commutes and a lot of driving in unfamiliar territory before I see him a few days later. And I, well, I'm 8 months pregnant. But even this doesn't quite pinpoint why I get alternately crabby and emotional the night before he leaves, and why I bite my quivering lip when he pulls out of the driveway in the morning. Am I that much of a baby?
No, I don't think it's that. I kind of like being reminded of the challenges of managing everything on my own. After all, I was Miss Independent until age 28. Giving it a go alone once in a while gives me assurance that I'm not helpless when I am left to do the things he usually manages around the house. I acutally located a Phillips screwdriver on my own today, and accomplished lawn maintenence just before sunset.
I think I have a hard time when he leaves because he is such an amazing husband; when he's gone, I just plain miss him. (Note to readers: "amazing" is an overused, muted word. I actually referred to Microsoft Word's Thesaurus tool to find an adequate replacement, and nothing seems to quite express how great my husband is, so I leave you with "amazing" and trust that you will know that I mean really, really amazing).
He makes me put my feet up when I get home. He bought me flowers on Mother's Day. When I was sick with a stomach virus and instructed to eat nothing but bananas, rice, applesauce or toast for 5 days, he vowed that he would eat the same things. And sure enough, he made a mean bowl of rice for dinner each night. On a busy night at work, I returned home to find that he had cleaned every corner of the house until it was gleaming. He reads pregnancy books, and brought Parenting magazines with him on his work trip. He has never called me over-emotional, though he had every right to. Every Saturday morning, he gets up and drives to Kwik Trip and brings back the chocolatiest donuts and chocolate milk and we have breakfast in bed. He has made every OB appointment, even though they are now weekly and two hours long. With great physical effort, he shoves compression stockings on my legs every night, and still calls me beautiful. He bought me an armload-full of new maternty clothes to help me feel confident.
He always holds my hand and opens the door for me.
I write this sitting in the middle of our king-sized bed, which I have all to myself right now. And Michael doesn't need to wake up with my snoring or 6 trips to the bathroom tonight. But I am missing a goodnight hug and kiss from my most amazing husband, who is going to be one amazing Dad.
You look fantastic!
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