Friday, September 23, 2011

1 week = 7 days = 168 hours = 10,080 minutes = 604,800 seconds

This week has been rough. Partly due to smaller things like the smell of paint in the dining/living areas from continued elevator installation, tumbles resulting in fat lips, colds and runny noses, however the main cause is a business trip; Roberts is in the US, so it’s been just the two of us all week.

My husband has always traveled on work-related trips, before there were three of us I sometimes even welcomed these little breaks in routine. No guilt over a frozen pizza for dinner, or an evening spent wrapped up on the couch with a book.

But with Lauris the situation is completely different; Roberts is my back-up, my 10 minutes peace in the evenings, my midnight (and sometimes 2am, 4am, 6am) riser, my “let’s order out for dinner” after an especially rough day, the one to reassure me that however difficult raising two children abroad sans family nearby may be, we will survive and our children will thrive. A week without him is daunting, no matter how many times I think to myself that women everywhere raise children alone and one week shouldn’t be such a disaster.

And we have survived, despite Wednesday night and the 4 hours spent trying to rock/walk/sing/shush Lauris to sleep, despite the extra loads of laundry caused by the “reorganization” of clothing Lauris deemed was necessary (reorganized straight into the dirty diaper pail), despite the shortened naps, shortened energy levels and shortened patience. Most evenings I have just left the mess, it can/will be dealt with eventually, and ignored the dishes until the next day as those too can wait. The days have been spent outside enjoying the beautiful weather (a.k.a. tiring Lauris out), meeting up with other moms, and stretching everyday chores such as a trip to the marché or pharmacy into hour-long adventures. (Who ever knew folding laundry could take three hours and elicit that many giggles?) The weekend was spent at the brocante and on a road-trip to Auchan supermarket. We came home with a bunch of little cactus plants to soothe the pain of the failure of my porch garden. Tuesday was market and park day, merci beaucoup to the mom that met me and listened to me release the pent up conversation that had been stewing since Saturday. Wednesday a playdate at another wonderful mother’s house that included much needed contact with grown-ups and a wonderful lunch. I almost didn’t survive Thursday, but here we are, already Friday and tomorrow he’ll be home.

Honey, jet lag or not, I hope you’re ready to spend the weekend with our son. Because I’m going to be a little busy regaining my sanity. (And please don't forget those dark chocolate mini-Reese's peanut butter cups...)

My moment of zen


  1. I feel your pain, my husband travels all the time and all I can do is try and keep my sanity when he's gone!

  2. Oh, bless your heart. I was drawn in by your title because I used to have my students do all that math. I don't think you were calculating that for the same reason though. When you're accustomed to your husband being there for support and help and patience and all those other things, it does make for a very long week when he's away. I sure hope he remembers the peanut butter cups.

  3. Younger, i remember long seperation , my father was expats congo, and for school mother must came back in Belgium during events,it has been a pleasure read your blog, best regard from Belgium, Lettonie is a nice country also.

  4. Liene, I applaud your openess! It is hard! And it is much harder when you're USED to the back up, than if your whole life is created around handling it all yourself. I mean that is hard too, but, you know what I mean. And not having family around doesn't make it easier. Yay for Roberts being home!

  5. Thanks so much for your open and honest writing. It is refreshing to hear although a challenge to live through. I remember when my daughter was little and my husband traveled I could somehow make it through the first 2/3rds and then a day or two of complete exhaustion and chaos and then the last day before he came home I was back to hope.

    I'm visiting from HH UK and so appreciated your story. Hope you join up again.

  6. I remember those days so clearly! Bless your heart - the day feels it will never end. If it helps, my kids are now older & more self-sufficient, so it is easier. But we all miss Daddy when he's gone.

    Thank you for linking up to Post Of The Month Club! XOL


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