I bitched long and hard about needed time away from my family. A couple days later I bitched about all the fun they have without me when I’m gone. But underneath all that bitching, part of me was really hoping that my family would fall apart without me.
Maybe BooBoo would cry himself to sleep without his bedtime snuggles from mommy. Maybe Boy Wonder would sulk silently in his room and draw a picture of my face from memory. Maybe my husband would call and ask where I keep the spatula. Something. Anything. But there was nothing.
Nothing! For four days, there was nothing.
I called home a half a dozen times asking stupid questions like, “Do you miss me? /Are the kids eating? / Is everything OK?” to which the answers were yes, yes, and yes. But get this, when I called they acted like I was interrupting them. Me. Interrupting them.
Dude, I was the one busy chatting it up with 5,000+ bloggers at BlogHer and my calling home was interrupting their party of 3? Really?
The truth was, I missed them bad. Way more than I’d ever missed them before and I’m still not exactly sure why. Wait, that sounded wrong; you know what I mean. As much and as hard as I missed them, I wanted them to miss me more. I’m killing myself every day as wife and mom to make sure things run smoothly and everyone gets all the TLC I can muster while I continue typing with one hand. How did they get along so well without me?
As annoyed as I would have been to be constantly interrupted by my husband for stupid shit, not being constantly interrupted by my husband for stupid shit stung.
To make matters worse, almost the moment they picked me up from the airport, the three musketeers launched into their weekend inside jokes. WTF people? Where was the tearful reunion? Where was the, ‘Thank goodness you’re home! / Never go away again, Mommy /’Oh please don’t go – we’ll eat you up – we love you so!'” from my wild things?
Maybe they needed a break from me. Maybe I left the house in such working order that I sabotaged their need for me. Or maybe my husband is perfectly capable of handling a house and children on his own. Like whoa.
Listen, I know they missed me. The boys enjoyed having Daddy to themselves, watching kung fu and eating pizza. My husband enjoyed the kids without my constant nagging about bedtimes and food groups. They enjoyed each other without me, and that’s a beautiful and mildly disheartening thing.
As I silently unpacked my travel-sized toiletries, my husband said, “We’re so glad you’re home. We had fun but it’s never the same here without you.” Good Lord, I hope not.
Moms, how does your family get along without you?
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