One is the loneliest number

Hi, my name is Stacy and it’s been 6 days since I’ve last seen my children. They left for San Antonio to visit their grandparents last Friday and I am officially miserable without them. As Dobie was the one to cook up the idea of an extended visit, I naturally blame him. Of course, he is completely bewildered why he is at fault and I believe that I am coming dangerously close to being labeled a nut. If he asks me if I’m about to start my “woman time”, I may go completely bonkers and start throwing stuff.

I find that I am not one of those people who enjoy being by myself. Sure, I like a little “me time”, but seven consecutive days is too much. By day three, I had re-read two Harry Potter books, cleaned my entire house and taken a couple of naps. Wish list complete. I was then faced with four more days of “now what?”

To make matters worse, I spoke to the kids last night and they were both weepy and crying to come home. At some point, Emme got so hysterical that someone just took the phone away and hung up. So for the rest of the night, I was all weepy and depressed. Dobie, of course, has no idea what to do with me. To be perfectly honest, I don’t know what to do with me. I seem to be operating in a sort of fog, just wishing time would go by faster.

Luckily, there is an end in sight. Tomorrow, my babies will be home and we will celebrate Carson’s 7th birthday with an “Army campout” in my mom’s backyard. And since I have had nothing but time on my hands to plan this shin-dig, I may have, okay, scratch that, I probably have gone overboard a teensy weensy bit. I have found that excessive amounts of free time combined with the crushing pain of missing your children results in the ever so slight-est over indulgence of one’s impulses. So, Carson will get a party to remember and I will get my sweet angels back again. Everyone’s a winner, I’d say.