Tomorrow I pick up The Hubby from the airport late at night.
These last few weeks I have been stretched more than I want to talk about. But I will. It's what I do. Talk.
I have epically failed at mothering.
I have epically rocked at mothering.
I have cried. But that's not unusual.
I am proud of The Hubby, because he's awesome.
I have realized how much I need him and love him and feel the distance when we're apart.
I have also realized that distance can be good. There is more room for communication when we're not spinning circles around each other, one kid in each arm.
I have gone to see One Republic thanks to Sis who knew my strained "HELLo" enough to know that I needed a night out...
I have danced the night away at a wedding of a dear childhood friend to another childhood classmate. Crazy weird. Mr. and Mrs. HOLMES.
I have soaked up the company of other friends all dealing with the same joys and frustrations.
I have yelled at the Internet for not working properly and disconnecting my iChat calls.
I have had way, way too much coffee. And not enough wine...
I have texted more than I thought I ever would in my life and if I could kiss Steve Jobs for making the iPhone I would.
I have done boot camp in the pouring rain and boiling sun and was bitten multiple times by an evil, demonic red ant on my BOOB. Now I can't walk due to extreme muscle boycott. Damn those 200 squats.
I have been stung in the forehead by a bee.
I have eaten McDonald's in nasty quantities.
I have worked out daily to make up for eating McDonald's. Had I not eaten McDonald's you would notice that I worked out. But you can't tell.
Friggin Junior Chicken Combo.
I have redone two rooms, washed the floor four times and killed hundreds of earwigs.
I've lived enough crazy life without The Hubby.
I'm ready, more than ready for him to come home.
And I'm more than ready for bed.
Enjoy the pictures. They're my only proof that I kept my sanity this July... And the reasons why...