Finally I can share some news! The Husband landed a new job which involves travel, travel, and more travel. This first project can last weeks, months, or even years. We don’t know. No one knows. But boy I hope someone starts to know pretty quickly.
For him it is miserable. No one melting down at full volume at the worst possible moment, no one kicking him in the face as they crawl into bed with him at 2 am, no one watching him go to the bathroom every flipping time. He gets to eat from his Pit Boss Grills 340 Wood Pellet Smoker when he wants, has a maid clean up his room daily, can explore fabulous cities, and will spend his time with adults doing adult things and having adult conversation. I don’t honestly know how he is going to make it through this. Totally sucks to be him. I get to experience our kids twenty-four-freaking-seven totally up in my face not leaving me alone for a nanosecond. Sweet goodness I won this coin toss. Alone time is overrated. So I have heard.
But coupled with this awesome new single mom title is a super tight tight tight budget. Because we are going to have to move and moving costs money and the sooner we do the sooner I can cease being single mom. I know. Day one and I am already prepared to give up the title. Clearly I am ungrateful. And undeserving.
Where we will end up is any one’s guess- that guess heavily weighing on that aforementioned anyone who has the magic answer to how long the current project will run and where next project will be located. Because the husband keeps threatening to hang it all and move us to Vermont and he totally means it.
Either that or he wants to move across town to this charming 1979 two story ranch loaded with original features including not one but two faux stone fireplaces, low popcorn encrusted ceilings, period tile super glued to the subfloor, and a burgundy kitchen that looks remarkably like the coagulated aftermath of a pig slaughter gone horribly, horribly wrong. Oh and it butts up to BLM land. In the high desert. You know, the place that is dirt, dirt, and more dirt and will only ever be dirt except that one day it floods and becomes super sticky mud? I will never have anything clean ever again. But hey, bonus! All that wind stirring it up will naturally exfoliate me and within a month I will lose at least five pounds in skin alone. Who needs those top seven layers?
I told him I wanted a project. What I meant was a gorgeous 4000 square foot Queen Anne loaded with original features in beautiful Schenectady. I want to spend my life battling lead paint and drafty windows, not black widow spiders and rattle snakes.
So here you are in my journey with me. His journey started this morning as he embarked on his twelve hour travel path through half a dozen airports because where we live and where he is assigned are remarkably the only two places in this entire country that don’t seem to connect to any mutual hub stream. At all. None.
Which is why I am single mom for a (please please please let it be) limited time while the powers that be determine the place he shall be and the length he shall be there so we can live at least in the same time zone. And if the powers that be especially love me, they will make sure it isn’t in Vermont.
But, good news, I survived day one. Almost.
The teen is about to blast through the door between work and her date tonight, the two youngest are watching what is probably an age inappropriate movie instead of sleeping, and I know there is one bag of peanut butter cups downstairs that is the sum total of our contribution for trick or treaters and at this rate I may have to keep the lights off and just hide in a closet the whole night because I. Need. Them. Now.
That aside, we ate meals on time. And the dishes were done. And we brushed our teeth. And I managed to pack two boxes. And I made a shopping list to go with my new meal plan for my new budget. And no one died, got mutilated, or got slapped with an anti-social behavior order and ended up on probation. So I survived. Hooray for me.