Reintergration... wait... This was only a test.

My husband came home to visit last weekend.

It was three days after a 7+ month absence.

I was worried about how it would go because leave in September was hard- very hard- but this was three days of awesome. Husband stepped into husband/daddy role almost perfectly (though I was sort of hoping he'd change at least one diaper, haha, nope) and our family of four and a dog started being a normal family.

But then Monday came and good byes again and all of a sudden reality came- slamming the door on my fingers as I clung desperately to the door jam trying to keep the fragment of happy family that was- in the form of coming home after dropping Daddy off, alone, to two crabby kids needing me, a dog who needed a bath, dog poop in the basement bathroom and actually on every surface of it, and emotions crippling me and making me useless.

And that is what I've been ever since- a useless slave to the emotions and impatience that flood me first thing in the morning.

Useless.

I cry a lot, I yell at my kids a lot, I feel like a worthless person not good for anything. I mean, other moms are working jobs AND running a household but I can't even handle two kids and a  dog. To be quite honest, I can't handle myself at all... I'm a wreck.

To be fair to the picture of home life difficulties, I suppose, Margo is also taking this a bit hard. Almost three is a time when you notice things like Daddy here one day and gone the next... this week has been especially hard to get her to eat. At all. She also tells me every time we get in the car that I am in Daddy's seat and every time we come back to the house she starts asking for Daddy and wonders if he is there.

Talk about gut wrenching.

Ellaine did well meeting her Daddy for the third time in her life- though I doubt she remembers the birth or being two months old meetings. She has not missed him but has offered her own life changes in trying to learn to walk this week (suddenly) and growing more teeth. Never one to be left behind I guess.

I humbled myself and called my friends for help on Monday and went to my parent's house from Tuesday-Friday. It is now Sunday night and I had to call my mom and ask her to rescue me again. I suppose not all of the time spent at my parents was just wallowing in anger at the army moving slow and the fact that his company came home for good this weekend and he (along with a few other people on medical) will be lucky to be home in June - a big chunk of it was spent traveling to see my new niece and playing with her older sister while my sister recovered with her new daughter.

I can't stop eating. I can't make it a day without feeling like I'm going to cry, my record is every other day without actually crying. I just can't do it by myself anymore!
I had it altogether...

Expletive.

I suppose my comfort is that it IS hard. It was a great weekend having husband home- I missed him, the kids missed having a Daddy, and it was awesome to not be alone in the balance act of our little family. It's hard to take a taste of something because than you want the whole thing; I've never ever been able to eat just one cookie or have just one bite of cake... I want my cookie jar home with me...

Annnnnnnnd that's where I'll stop with the metaphors. :)


*For the record, he was cleared for he papilledema; apparently it has started healing on its own and it was never all that severe to begin with. He started chiropractic but they have him on a bunk schedule of once a week starting in May. Otherwise we're just trying to figure out why he is having sleep issues and getting headaches consistently every day.*