Eric's out of town, and because the girls' and my trip to Idaho is back on, we won't see him again until Monday evening. For the few days before he left, I was feeling pretty anxious about having the girls on my own for so long with no break. I hate that I felt this way--I love my girls, and am certainly capable enough to handle them by myself for a week. And I have friends who do this all the time, what with their partners traveling a lot. Single moms are rolling their eyes at my big fat whininess at this very moment. But, what can I say? I know I'm not stay-at-home material, and the girls can be pretty bad-ass when they want to be, reducing me to a quivering mass at will. I was scared.
But it's been good (she says, on day two). We've hung out and played a lot, and read a lot of books, and made a ton of goofy art. We've been going to the Y so I can get my exercise in and have a little break, and the neighbor kid is watching the girls tomorrow night so that I can go play volleyball. And the last two nights, after bedtime, I've powered through four episodes of Six Feet Under, which, not ironically, makes me want to kill myself and yet is totally addicting at the same time. Three guesses who Nate reminds me of.
Anyway, we're doing fine. But I've been surprised at how vulnerable I feel at night. I've been double-checking the door locks and windows, and have felt a little uneasy. Not that Eric is a gun-totin' muscle-bound junkyard dog or anything, but his presence is always reassuring (and he does have a side to him--I call it, and I know this is stereotypical, "ghetto Eric"--where he can come across as really threatening. He's pulled this persona out with prank callers before, and it makes me giggle and shiver at the same time. Yikes). I just feel better when he's here, even if it does mean, like, twice the housework.
There's nothing to be afraid of--we're all perfectly safe, and I know that. If I'm quite honest, I'm probably getting a little thrill out of scaring myself. But mostly I think it's just that a member of the unit is missing, and that is disconcerting. Much as we've been driving each other nuts lately, he's my rock, that man. Absence and the fond heart, and all.