Irony

Here is some irony for you, late on a Saturday night.

As much as I loved, loved, loved, my time alone a few weeks ago. I do NOT love my time alone when it means my husband is gone.  This weekend was his turn for some much needed time away. Not alone, like me, but time away from me, from the boys, from coaching soccer, washing dishes (oh wait, that's me), work, any and all responsibilities. Time with his dad and brothers doing manly things like fishing and drinking beer.

I had my time, two full days, he has barely 24 hours.  But as I ended my day apologizing to each of my boys, I felt like a failure. Brandon handled 2 nights without me, two bedtimes, and as far as I know with no crazy meltdowns. I had one night and barely made it.

Now, I did have the addition of a 50 lb quadriplegic dog that I had to help use the bathroom, but that is a post for another time.

Why is this ironic? Because I always blab on and on about how I want to be alone. How I need to be alone. I had last night to be alone, and even most of tonight, and I am literally counting down the minutes until he is home.

Then I am off to bed, where I am so happy to know that I will not be sleeping alone.