It’s Day One of hubby being out of town, Day Two of my attempt at a sleep makeover, and Day Four of no fitness/running/working out whatsoever due to leg injury. If a zombie had milk-producing boobs and did endless amounts of laundry, that’d be me.
Hubs will be gone until the day before the SuperBowl, so it’s one me, six kids, four soccer practices, three schools, and a five-bedroom shack in hell for two weeks straight. Sounds like a math nightmare, doesn’t it? Hopefully, I’ll get my sleep issues worked out in order to manhandle it all properly. The sleep issues that have reared it’s ugly head as a result of Baby Dude’s full-frontal assault on a good night’s sleep have now caused insomnia. Lovely.
As for my leg issues, I noticed considerable pain while running and working out last week. My calves ached in the bone and the muscles were uber-tight and felt Charley Horse-ish all-the-time. It hurt to walk. It hurt to sit. It hurt to breathe. My remedy was rest, and while the rest has seemingly helped my legs, it killed my will and determination to do anything but veg-out and sleep (which, of course, is also related to getting no sleep, too), making me feel “bleh” and lazy.
I am kind-of a little bit of a mess, as was evident by my quieting my tears and emotional breathing while stroking my husband’s chin stubble during our goodbye this morning. I hate it when he’s away, it always brings me back to his deployment. I will always worry about his flight, plane safety, being hit by a bus, you know, crazy, irrational things when you love someone so much and are afraid of living life without them, ever.
On the upside, these next two weeks I’ll be fully invested in my children, camp outs and popcorn movie nights, just me and the kids, which is usually the only upside to daddy being away.
But being without your love, your partner, your parental “back-up” for any amount of time is always difficult, let alone two weeks. Again.
Two weeks. Sigh.
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