So D got home super late Monday night. He's been looking for another job (I think I may have mentioned this previously). He'd finally begun making some very hopeful progress with a company, so he was kind of hanging around, getting things done, but hanging around in hopes of being able to turn in his truck with the current company and start with the new one. Turned out to be the way to go. When he left today, it was to turn in his truck and head to start with the new company.
So, after a much longer separation than I like, I had more time with him than usual. Although it did make it much harder to let him go today, it was wonderful to have that extra time. He thinks I will sleep better without his snoring...he doesn't know (well, I suppose he might when/if he reads this) that I sleep for crap when he's not here. It's really rather ridiculous, but his snoring actually is almost like a fan running for me. His snores are white noise. Or maybe it's his arms around me that help me sleep. Or his warmth. Or just knowing he's there. Who knows? Ok, enough oversharing.
So, while he was home, I didn't really get online much. I paid a bill that came due and that was about my limit. I like to spend as much time with him as I can. Computer goes way down the priority list when he is home. In fact, everything but the kids goes way down the priority list when he's home.
We did have some interesting happenings this week, though. One of which...I am still trying to wrap my brain around. C & J had tipped C's bike up on it's handlebars, so the wheels were up in the air. They were spinning the back tire and skinning clumps of dirt on it, when one of them got a "brilliant" idea. One of them decided that J's...manly parts, shall we say, should be put on the tire. I'm still trying to figure out how this came about.
J: Hey, let's put my peepee on the tire and see what happens!
C: Cool! Let's do it!
C: Hey, I have an idea! Why don't you put your peepee on the tire. I bet that'll be really cool.
Either way, I know the end result: J comes crying, clutching his goodies like he just got kicked a good one, and sits in my lap for the next half hour, continuing to clutch the boys like they're going to fall off if he doesn't. He ended up with some nasty looking bruises, but luckily, it's not broken. Not that I'd know if it was, cause...well, I don't have one and wouldn't have the first clue how to know if it was broken or not. In fact, I sat there holding him, wishing D or my dad or even the Fedex guy would show up to assure me he'd be fine.
I just wish I could understand what on earth made them think that was a good idea.
And then there was yesterday, when C proved himself to be utterly, completely MALE. He wore dress pants to school, with a nice button down shirt. He had a belt on, because as always, his pants were a bit too loose. Apparently, while at school, the belt broke. So, how did he keep his pants up? A zip tie! Yes, really. He used a zip tie to keep his pants from falling down around his ankles. With dress pants, no less. D joked that he wanted a paternity test because it sounded like something he would do, and my parents both almost fell out of their chairs laughing when I told them.
Before D left today, he took the boys for a ride in his truck. Quite a long ride, too. Thrilled them to no end. J kept complaining of boredom, but when we got home, all he could tell his grandparents about was the ride. They were both fascinated by all the trucks at the different truck stops we stopped at, so they could switch seats and each have a turn up front. They were amazed at all the things on the dashboard, and thought the oddly placed (to them, anyway) window in the door of the truck was really cool. He honked the horn at one point at a car, and they both thought that was really awesome, too, although they tried to play it cool in the truck. It wasn't until we were in the car on the way home that they gushed about that. How loud it was, how cool it was, how they didn't know what that car did but they were sure it deserved to be honked at. I'm sure D will be pleased to know they are firmly on his side in that situation, even when they're clueless.
So, now, here I am. Saturday night, with two or possibly three weeks ahead of me. The first few days after he leaves are the hardest. It gets better the longer he's gone, but I strongly suspect that is more a matter of I begin getting excited that it's closer to him being home again than anything else.
It's really kind of funny. When I was married to my ex, if he'd been a truck driver, we'd probably still be married. I couldn't stand being around him, so him being gone 2-3 weeks at a time, or more, would have been ideal. Now, with D, it drives me nuts. I want time with him, I almost crave it. He was home nearly a week, and it still doesn't feel like enough time. We've only been together just over three months, but in that three months, he's become my best friend, and I love him more than I've ever loved anyone else in my life, with the exception of my children. But that's a totally different kind of love, so there's really no comparison there.
And now I'm on the phone with D, so I'm off now.