When Husbands Go Out of Town...

I am a really lucky woman. My husband rarely has to travel. Well, up until this point in our marriage at least. Since we've moved to Florida he has had two trips to Texas. Each has been six days and five nights long.
If you don't have kids you're likely rolling your eyes at me. One week? Big deal! Not even a FULL week! Cowgirl up woman!
If you have kids you are probably doing this...

When my husband travels I go through stages...kind of like the stages of grief. Here's how it breaks down.
Day 0 (the day before departure): This is the "denial" day. The day where I try to pretend like he isn't really leaving. I imagine all sorts of scenarios. The plane won't start because a chicken got stuck in the engine. They call and say they forgot to register him so he is going to have to go another week. He is tricking me and any second he's going to say "just kidding! I could never leave you!". This stage lasts right up until I get the phone call that he has landed in wherever he is going.
Day 1: The "crying day". This is the day where I start to panic. How am I going to do this? What if everyone gets sick and I need to go to the ER and I have to take everyone with me because he isn't here? What if someone breaks in and drugs me and kidnaps all my children to sell as child slaves? What if every single one of us evaporates during the night?
Day 2: The "I can do anything" day. I did it. I survived the first night. No one died. No one threw up. No trips to the ER. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5...oh there's 6! Whew. We're all here and we are all alive! I can do dishes. I can fold laundry. I can get the kids to school on time. Watch me rock this week like Alice Cooper.
Day 3: The "I think I can" day. Okay two nights down. This hasn't been too bad. So the football coach changed practice to the same night as soccer resulting in two hours of carting six children to various fields, running out of water and eating dinner at 9:30 pm..no biggie. I got this. I'm a train baby, a train, just chugging along. One day at a time. I think I can...I think I can...I think I can.
Day 4: The "is it really only day 4?" day. We could also call it "groundhog" day, because I swear it repeats itself at least seven times before it's over. Seriously. It has to at least be day five. Only four? Really? Okay. I can still do this Just think, tomorrow I will be able to say that he's coming home "tomorrow". I can sing the song too! This is going to be okay! I think I can...I think I can...I think I can.
Day 5: The "I am so over it" day. This job isn't worth it. No amount of money is worth it. I can live in a tent and take a shower in a river of giardia and last month's spotlight creature on "River Monsters". What I cannot do, is go one more day without him home. I haven't showered since...never mind. Dishes are piling up, my kids wore dirty clothes to school and if I don't have five seconds by myself soon someone is going to die. I'm this close to sitting in a corner rocking back and forth singing to the musical creatures who hide among the flowers.
Day 6: The "tranquility" day. We have lived. He's coming home. Everything is beautiful and bright. And have I introduced you to the musical creatures who hide among the flowers? They are so pretty. Come meet them...