I'm rather sad that he's going. First and foremost it will be a huge shock to the system. Since I'm a full time pro-life activist without a pay check (www.prolifeunity.com is the website to check out some of my activities), I teach the kids school the first half of the day and then work at my desk and on the computer the second half of the day. So when exactly do I grocery shop, dishes, laundry, bathrooms, etc. Good question. Not sure yet how I'm going to fit that in.
Dad arrived late July, and there was suddenly always milk, OJ and cereal in the house, besides mountains of fresh fruit. Also, dad runs the washer and dryer, is home (unless he's at the hardware store), so I was free to run a quick errand, attend meetings, and take the older kids to their classes without throwing 6 kids in the car. (My apologies for that last sentence. I'm rather tired, and it is rare for me to update this blog twice in one week anyway). My husband is back in school,which means that Monday thru Thursday I don't see him until the kids are in bed. So dad is a serious stress reliever.
Now there are certain characteristics my dad and I have that would bring an element of relief in our parting ways. The chief of these is our light preferences. Yes, I'm talking of the number of burning bulbs in the house. I dislike artificial light. Period. Early in the morning, I need darkness until I've had a couple mugs of coffee, and I have things in motion for the day. My dear old dad on the other hand, gets up at 4:30 in the morning, and has every light in the upstairs from his bedroom to the bathroom down the hall, blazing. What he does at that time, I don't know, because he doesn't shower until about 5:30. By 6 he is in the kitchen ready to fire up the blender in order to produce his all time favorite breakfast, his elixir of life. What is in the elixir of life? That is not important. What is important is that every single solitary light in the downstairs blazes forth in all its glory. I've decided that for a long term living arrangement, I need to wear sunglasses, and dad needs a splunker helmet- you know the one- it has a big bulb attached to the front of the helmet. This way everywhere dad looks (which is hopefully not at me) he will enjoy full spotlight coverage.
Jon left for Chicago last weekend and returned at about midnight Wed/Thur. This was not good for the family schedule. You see dad and I share this characteristic- we sleep for the only purpose of refueling in order to go back to work. There is no relaxing time in our day. We work until we simply can keep our eyes open no longer, than we sleep until we are enough rested so as to go back to work. As a wife, I adjust to the schedule of my husband and also the needs of 6 children. With Jon gone, the schedule also left. Once I had finished school with the kids, fed the kids lunch, and put the three younger ones down for naps, I would settle in at my desk. At some point the napping ones would get up, Caroline played with Vivian, the three little boys occupied themselves. By the time Vivian grew so crabby I could ignore her no longer, I would get up from my desk only to find that it was well after 7pm, and sometimes after 8pm. Dad was equally engrossed in his work, so there we were. I think Dad and I would be very happy with a desk and a cot. Except that I would like a single candle for late night purposes, and Dad would like 10 spotlights, all aimed at the ceiling, so he could enjoy indirect light- which is his favorite.
Dad is taking a nap now, and will leave in the early hours of the morning. I would rather have him stay with all his spotlights blazing. But instead I'll spend tomorrow morning having my 6am coffee in the darkness, feeling a little sorry for myself that now I must go back to the Mon-Thurs life of single working mom. When I go to a meeting, 6 children will go too. When I dash to the store, I will be dashing at a much slower pace with the clan. We'll go back to random scraps for breakfast, lunch and dinner until we have to go back to the grocery store because I've run out of half and half for my coffee. Sniff. Sniff.
