My husband travels a lot for work which is good and bad. Good because I get to catch up on So You Think You Can Dance without anybody judging me, and bad because at 6am, when Mazzy wants to start her day, I have no choice but to do it myself. Ditto for negotiating dinnertime tantrums, enforcing iPad restrictions and overcoming bedtime stalling tactics.
On the rare occasion when it’s ME who goes away for work, I always ask Mike how everything went in my absence.
It would be very satisfying to hear something like, “It was horrible! We can’t live without you!” But instead, I usually get a shrug coupled with a flippant “It was fine.” Like taking care of a two-year-old by one’s self is the easiest thing on earth and anybody who complains about it is either weak or not doing right.
Great, yes. But also, INFURIATING.
Which is why, when I came home from three days at a blogging conference and asked Mike how the weekend with Mazzy went, I was excited to hear that it was “a total disaster”.