Why I Could Use a Little Chocolate...

So it's been 4 weeks since we started this new adventure where Brian lives somewhere else during the week and only comes home on weekends. I'm not sure I can even think of anything clever to say, I'm so exhausted, so I'll just lay it out for you:

Week 1: I was running on adrenaline and faith and the week went surprisingly well.

Week 2: This week was post-bank failure so I was reeling with the emotional backlash of 12 years hard work with nothing to show for it. Any savings and retirement are gone. Add to that a huge lack of respect and ignorance from the community and you get one angry week.

Week 3: I'd like to call this the jaded week. This was the week I said, "Brian? Brian who? Are you talking about my husband? I'm doing just fine on my own. Who needs a companion?"

Week 4 (the present): Never mind what I said last week. I'm lonely. I'm impatient. I'm over my kids.

So now that I've laid out my raw emotions for all of the blogosphere to read and judge, I will tell you that despite my complaints, I know that what we are doing is the right thing, and because of that some blessings have come.

I have been empowered and able to do things that I normally wouldn't do if Brian were here. Today one such task involved a crescent wrench, a socket wrench, and a Makita drill. I fixed a fence and I fixed it good.

I've dealt with sub-contractors and gotten some drywall work done in the garage.

I've dealt with real estate agents, and quite frankly, gotten this house ready and on the market by myself. If this house sells (and I stress the if ) it will be because of my efforts. That may sound arrogant and self-centered, but that is only because of my weak mastery of the written language, because it's supposed to sound confidant.

That is another blessing. I don't normally do confidant.

Up until recently, I've done ok with the kids. I've been able to pace myself and they have really stepped up to the plate. But recently, I find myself feeling pecked to death by the incessant questions because I'm the only one around to answer them. When I texted Brian how tired I was of the questions (because that's how we communicate) he cutely responded, "I'm realizing that smart kids come at a price." Cute. But no consolation when you are expected to answer simultaneously, and in rapid fire, questions like:

"Mom, what color do you get when you mix blue and purple?"
"Mom, how close together were your contractions right before you had me?"
"Mom, what happens if you shoot a monster?"
"Mom, what time of day was I born?"
"Mom, what were the last five books you have read?"
"Mom, do you have an unlimited amount of money on you debit card, or do you eventually run out of money?"
"Mom, where's my (insert 5 million nouns)?"


And what's the first thing I hear in the morning when I wake up in my lonely cold bed?

"Mom?"





You do realize that's a question, right?


(For those just tuning in, the bank Brian worked for here in San Luis Obispo for the past 12 years was recently taken over by the FDIC. Because of that he was forced to take a new job in the Sacramento area. The job started one month ago, but we decided that the kids and I would stay behind in order to finish school and get the house sold. So Brian lives with my parents during the week and comes home on weekends so we can try and act like a normal family for a couple of days. Once school is over, we will be moving the family to the Sacramento area, or more specifically, Elk Grove. We think.)