Waiting on Tomorrow

Tomorrow, I think. Tomorrow is a new day and tonight's sleep will reboot my system. But that blasted tomorrow keeps becoming today and, for some reason, today hasn't been going very well lately. My batteries are empty, and my recharging stations seem to have lost power. Brian's residency program has stolen him away from me - literally - and placed him in a city three and a half hours from our home. He's been gone for 4 and a half months now (you read it right) coming home every-other weekend when he's not on call. And on the other weekends, I pack the kids up and make the long drive out to spend some time in his tiny (tiny) apartment. We miss him. We miss him a lot.

It's our anniversary today. It's hard not to cry when I think about it, though. I'm overwhelmed with gratitude and longing for the little things that are hard to appreciate until you miss them...
* his 6'4" frame that can change the light bulbs without dragging stools all over the house
* his smile that is always on his face as he walks in the door
* his happy disposition that lightens the mood in our home
* his playfulness that pulls the kids to him
* his muscles that could easily unscrew the bolts under the sink when it's clogged with mud
* his nightly snacky-appetite that drives him to pop popcorn for us, or heat up some chips with cheese melted over, or dish up bowls of ice cream
* his consistency in mowing the lawn before it starts sprouting
* his willingness to fix the master toilet when it sprays water up to the ceiling every time I flush, or the kids' toilet when it won't stop running
* his help in decorating the house and wrapping presents for our child's birthday
* his remembering to wheel the garbage out to the corner every week
* his attention to my emotions and insistence that I take a little break when I need it
* his efficiency in whipping the house into order when dishes, clothes and toys threaten to eat our children
* his love of a house full of sleeping children, two spoons in a carton full of our favorite ice cream, and our feet propped up in front of our current favorite show
* his calm reminder that life is to be enjoyed


I'm not quite the same without him. I'm still trying to figure out how I can feel so busy and so lonely at the same time... We only have two and a half weeks left until he comes home for good, but I have to be honest in saying I'm a little concerned about the state he'll find our home and family in at that time - hopefully today is no indication of how things are going to be then: this is night four of Miles sleeping in just his diaper because he has no clean pajamas, my kitchen floor hasn't been mopped in so long I'm afraid there might be mold growing in the food spills, the toilet in the hall is currently running - it's probably an easy fix, but I just have no energy to stand up and lift the lid to see what the problem is. The phone has been ringing off the hook, and I have cried to four different people through the receiver. Four people! I've had four extra kids in my home for the past three days - so you can imagine the state of the playroom. Two kids decided to wash some 'rocks' in our bathroom sink, which really meant filling up buckets full of mud and dumping them down the drain until no more water could travel down and the whole thing had to be unscrewed to get the mud out - which left a bucket full of muddy water that was later stepped on and spilled across the entire bathroom floor, leaving a 1/4 inch of muck in the bath mats, across the floor and in the closet. The end of today found me on my hands and knees, sopping up the mucky water with quiet tears dripping from the tip of my nose.

And then I felt my children. My sweet, sweet, wonderful children wrapped their arms around me and McKenzie and Carson cried silently with me for a minute. I hugged them tightly and told them just how much I love them and thanked them for being so caring. I assured them that my tears were not a result of anything they had done - just that I missed Daddy and it had been a hard day. Minutes later I went to get another towel and passed McKenzie talking to Miles on the couch, "Mommy is having a hard night, Miles," she explained. "We need to be nice to Mommy. Can you be nice to Mommy, Miles?"

Tonight showed me that, though my family life is anything but stable right now, we are pulling through it. My children love me - and I love them desperately. When Brian found out about the day's frustrations he lent a listening, caring ear - and when I mentioned, at 6:15pm, that I hadn't even thought about dinner yet, he sat in his apartment 200 miles away and ordered a pizza to be delivered to my home.


Thank you, Brian, for finding ways to take care of me. My life is so much better with you in it, and I miss you. Today was a bit rough, but tomorrow, tomorrow is a new day and tonight's sleep will reboot my system. And if nothing else, it will bring me one day closer to having you home with me again. Happy anniversary, dear. I love you.

And now, at 11:30pm, on to figure out that running toilet, wheel the garbage out to the corner, sweep the crumbs from the kitchen and the dry dirt and pebbles from the bathroom, throw the sopping towels in the washer, start the dishwasher...