Tomorrow is Thursday.
Then comes Friday.
On Friday evening Mommy comes home. And she stays home. I am so ready for her to come home.
We're still having fun. The girls have been camping out in the living room, three of them sleeping on the floor. I'm not sure why they like to do that. Then John Paul stays with me in the big bedroom, where we can listen to late night baseball on the radio.
Its too hot during the day to do much outdoors. The highlight of the day is a trip to the grocery store, or the library, or the gym. Then dinner and T.V. and the rosary. Sometimes we have family conversation, but those are always better when Mommy is here.
Everybody bosses Josefina around. She stands her ground, and whines as only a four year old can when she doesn't get what she wants. But I think she's a little on edge because she misses the Mommy connection.
It seems like a usual lazy summer evening. The ball game is on. Kids are lounged around, reading. If Mommy were here, she might very well be on her laptop doing some work.
But she would be here, and the house would feel like home.
Instead everything seems messier (well, it is messier), everything seems a little disconnected, a little scattered, a little "temporary," like a camp. I don't feel completely myself without her around.
It's hard to have a "home" when both parents are not there. I have had just a taste of that in these summer experiences we've had. My heart really goes out to families where there is long term separation, due to whatever particular circumstances.
Meanwhile, Mommy has the sprint to the finish line with finals and presentations and submitting her paper topics. We just have to get through a few more days.
