I
have been abandoned by my VWH. For three
days. I’ve never been a fan of being
separated from him, but before James three days alone meant Chinese food (or
shrimp, which he is allergic to) and chick flicks and sprawling out over the
entire bed. I missed my husband
dreadfully, but there were a few perks. Three
days with a teething, crawling, climbing 10 month old doesn’t mean rest and relaxation
anymore. Au contraire. It means no
breaks.
So I’ve
decided to document the highlights and lowlights of three days sans
husband. We’ll see if I survive. I have few expectations of actually getting
much done other than survive. Don’t expect to read about housework getting
done and makeup being applied. The next
few days will likely be spent mostly just trying to keep James from eating paperbacks
and crud off the floor.
7:05
am. VWH leaves amid hugs and prayers for
safety. We wave as he pulls out of the driveway,
then eat breakfast and listen to Mike and
Mike. Mondays were really rough
before I remembered about Mike and Mike. James eats part of a bowl of oatmeal and
prunes. It’s not his best effort but
this is probably because he had an extra nursing last night.
8:45
am. James has slipped enough times in
his explorations to indicate that it’s nap time. He nurses and waves his free hand around per
usual, exploring my face and hoodie for a few minutes before passing out. I put him silently in his crib and pray for a
nice long snooze…
9:05
am. …because I want to grab at least a
cat nap myself. Teething equals fusses
in the night and my stoic “just go to back to sleep” strategy melts away during
these times. My baby’s mouth hurts and
he wants to snuggle his mommy. So we
do. And I allow myself the luxury of
drifting off for a few minutes myself. I
set the alarm for 9:55, but before it goes off…
9:50
am. Knock
knock knock!! I wake up, thinking
hard about who could possibly be at the door.
We never get unannounced visitors.
Probably UPS, in which case they’ll leave the package and go away. Knock knock
knock!! Crap. Maybe I should check to see who it is. I glance in the mirror and ignore the fact
that my hair is a frizzy mess, I’m in sweats, and am wearing my uber-thick
glasses. I peek out the front door from
the top of the steps to find my visitors looking up at me and my heart drops.
That’s
right ladies and germs. Today, for the
first time ever, I got Jehovah Witnessed.
When I was a child my mom could smell them coming and would get us
upstairs, down low, and close the blinds.
I thought this was silly and maybe a little rude, until I saw our
Christian neighbor across the street got stuck for 2 hours at the front door
engaged in a debate while her preschool-aged children ran wild around her. All of the sudden hiding seemed like the
saner option.
No
hiding from these suit-clad gentlemen though.
The first thought, no lie, that went through my head was, “Well, this should
make a good blog.” And, to their credit,
they didn’t stay long. They read to me from
Psalms about the great destruction of the earth and asked if I went to
church. I said that I did and they were
nice enough to pick up on the fact that I wasn’t exactly dressed for
company. The older gentleman (easily 80,
sounded like he was from Yugoslavia) asked if they could come back at another
time. I politely declined and wished
them a nice day. They were sure to give
me some literature about doomsday and the value of women before they headed
out. But that was it. No protests, no dragging the conversation
out. I give those guys props. I’m not convinced at all of the effectiveness
of door-to-door evangelism in our culture, but they really didn’t sour my
day. They were pleasant, polite, and not
bad to look at.
10:31
am. I’ve now recorded the first 4 hours
of the first day without VWH. There is
no way I’ll be able to write this much all the time. But prayers for a longish nap have been
answered. James is still quiet upstairs.
To be
continued…
No comments:
Post a Comment