Returning home from the store with our new television in the back, Flash unknowingly brought up a conversation point The Mister and I had already discussed; the issue of our lack of curtains in our living room. (I still contend that curtains should be decided upon after couches have been purchased, but with the priorities in our home placing a new TV higher then new couches, we still lack any window treatments.)

“I don’t think there are funds left for curtains now,” The Mister explained to Flash. “We might just have to use black trash bags for awhile,” he joked.

“We are NOT white trash!” I exclaimed.

“I think his idea would actually make us black trash, mom. Black trash bags….”

Oiy. As if weeks of my husband researching and talking about televisions wasn’t enough like my father, now I have his sense of humor piping up from the backseat, too.

The Mister has been researching televisions for weeks. I don’t know if it is because my screen has a titled image or because the sports stations are now making their score boxes so small that our old eyes can’t read them, but The Mister had reserved some wedding gift money specifically for this purpose and was finally ready to purchase something new.

Finally home, but too cold to do anything outside, The Mister decided today was the day to go get and install our new TV.  We all headed along with him, me to give my stamp of approval, Flash to ensure all technical needs were met.  After promising that I really did love it, and that I was perfectly fine with us making this purchase, I wandered off to let the boys deal with the actual purchase and acquisition of the coveted item.

Looking back at the boys standing in line together, I saw The Mister look at me and then whisper something to Flash with concern.  I saw Flash look my way, chuckle and then assure The Mister with a shake of his head and a smile.

I learned later The Mister, seeing my look from several aisles away, appealed to the teenager, “Flash, I know you’ve been in this situation before.  Tell me honestly, am I dead?”  Checking my expression for himself, Flash was able to reassure The Mister that no, he was far from dead.  

It’s true.  On both counts.  The Mister is certainly not in the doghouse for the purchase.  And the teenager would be the one to know.

The Mister was able to come home a day earlier than expected and arrived home from Green Bay around 5:00 last night. His trip was far from pleasant, with flooded roads and detours, but he arrived home safe and sound, ready for a cold one.

We were thrilled to have him home. I’m glad to have my best friend back. Flash was thrilled to see a pizza box in The Mister’s hands. Despite the rough trip back, The Mister had stopped in Chicago and picked up a Giordano’s pizza.

We enjoyed the pizza tremendously, but we enjoy having him home even more.

My hat, every single one I own, is officially off to all the military wives out there. I don’t know how you do it. The Mister has been away for work for twelve days now. We still have one more to go (37 hours, but who is counting?) and I am a wreck. There are but two things that have kept my whining at a minimum: one, knowing that there are so many military wives out there who don’t see their husbands for months, not just a days, and knowing how blessed we are with the job The Mister has. He has worked very hard to climb up a literally gruesome ladder (think: slaughter, butchering…) to get to where he is at. I am grateful. I swear.

But three months in to having finally married my best friend and confidante, I am far from amused with two week stretches of his absence. It doesn’t help that he is stuck in Green Bay, Wisconsin in April (think:snow), or that it has rained every.single.day since he left. And it doesn’t help that I know he will be gone again in three far-too-short weeks. Sigh.

My friends think I am crazy. Either they are wishing for a two-week reprieve from their own spouse, or they remind me I am not-so-far removed from my own independent single days. I see their point, at least the second one. Shouldn’t this be a cake walk for two people who have been single for years? Some might even think this would be a tremendous help, a way to ease into married life for two independent people. But it is quite the opposite. Having been on our own for so long, having finally found someone we love spending our time with, having become quickly spoiled with daily conversations and nightly bed partners, we hold onto such things with a fierce grip. We know too well what it feels like without it.

We try, the two of us, to focus on the silver linings. The extra money has helped us do some spring projects that would not otherwise have been possible. We look forward to our vacation this summer. We are grateful for email, texting, FaceTime and free long distance calls. And it certainly makes us treasure the days we have when he is home.

For those of you who are separated for months; where a guarantee of a safe return is not promised; who have young children even – my hat is off to you.

For those who know me, for those close enough to know that God has been trying to teach me patience my whole life (and I am a poor student in this class), I promise to keep you apprised of The Mister’s travel plans, so you know when to steer clear of me. I will be much better soon.

It sure goes to show how much I love, need and miss this man, that’s for certain.

Come home, Chief.

…But I’ll be lonely without you
And I’ll need your love to see me through
So please believe me
My heart is in your hands
And I’ll be missing you

‘Cause you know it’s you babe
Whenever I get weary
And I’ve had enough
Feel like giving up
You know it’s you babe
Givin’ me the courage
And the strength I need
Please believe that it’s true
Babe, I love you

(“Babe” by Styx)

It was his half day that started it all. With The Mister, aka “Flash’s Personal Taxi Driver,” away, we didn’t have many good options about getting Flash to his afternoon high school. The best option (in my opinion) was for me to drop him four and a half hours early when I went to work. He didn’t much dig that plan.

I finally realized (again, I’m on cold meds) that while The Mister is out of town, his Jeep is in the garage. We are a two car family!! Flash was thrilled with the new plan that involved me taking the Jeep to work, while he slept in and eventually made his way to school in my car. The Mister gave his blessing with the forewarning that the Jeep was low on gas. No worries. I can put gas in the Jeep.

As it turned out, putting gas in the vehicle was about the only thing I actually knew how to do. I did NOT know:

-how to turn the headlights on
-how to turn on the dome light so I can find the headlight switch (Duh, it’s a soft-top Jeep. There isn’t a dome light!)
-how to get the key out of the ignition
-how to get into or out of the Jeep in a skirt and heels
-how to decide if the low tire pressure light was important or a fluke
-know how much air pressure Jeep tires take
-know where The Mister might keep a tire gauge
-how to get back home, get a soon-to-be grumpy teen out of bed, get in MY car, dropped at school and still get to my classroom before the bells. (Not possible)
-how to remain calm while driving the Jeep to work, despite the low tire pressure light
-how to manage a vehicle on the highway that aerodynamically behaves like a sideways mobile home

The ride home was much more relaxed. The Mister had since responded that the tire pressure sensor is on the fritz and is nothing to worry about. It was daylight and I had no need for headlights (although I now know how to work them). The gas tank was full and I drove the back roads home, eliminating concerns over cross breezes and passing semi-trucks. As I enjoyed the curvy roads drenched in bright sunlight, confidently navigating my way, an oncoming Jeep reminded me I still have much to learn. I had not prepared myself for the mandatory “Jeep wave” from one Jeep driver to another!

Flash has another half day tomorrow. Perhaps by then I will be better prepared to drive the beloved Jeep!

The Mister wasn’t too happy when he found out he would be working in Detroit last week, but he met up with friends and enjoyed his hometown city and made the best of it.

He was even less thrilled, however, when after being back less than 48 hours, he was back out the door, this time headed west to Chicago, for another week away from home.

Back at the ranch, my sinus infection is still rearing its ugly head after ten days (again-as if six weeks at Christmas and sniffling through the “in sickness” parts of our vows wasn’t enough) and to top it all of, I came down with my first ever case of pink eye-in both eyes today…

The Mister says he wishes he was home to help pick up my prescriptions and hand me the one thousandth tissue of the day, but I think he is secretly on the phone with his boss asking if they still need someone in Green Bay next week.

Just a hunch.

The Mister left this morning for work related travel. I wasn’t home an hour before his absence was tangibly felt. First, I had to make dinner. The whole dinner. And get plates and all ready. Even as Flash and I tried to point out the silver lining’s I. the Mister’s absence, (parking in the middle of the garage, sleeping in the middle of the bed…) I realized I couldn’t even turn the TV on. I have no idea how to work all the remotes we have now. I handed them over to Flash and said, “you do it.” He asked me what I wanted to do. I thought this was surely a trick question. I was handing him all the remotes to the TV, wasn’t it rather clear I wanted the darn thing on?! Apparently, I had to specify antenna or satellite before I had even seen the menu of shows. Good grief.

Even with TV on, things didn’t improve. Flash found a show he liked, which I promptly made fun of (he gave me permission to). But when I tired of that entertainment, I quickly started nagging him to teach me the game he was playing on his phone. Which must have been annoying to him because he started begging for The Mister to come home already.

Zoiks. We still have four more days of this.

The SECOND Star Wars marathon has just begun at our house. The FIVE teens are ready to read every opening, play the theme at top volume and be extraordinarily loud until around ten tomorrow morning.

Wish us luck.

After spending a frustrating amount of time once again today, trying to unjam my school printer-the one that seems to think it needs to feed at least two or three pieces of paper instead of the one it was designed to handle – I wondered, as I pulled up to the ATM for cash tonight why the bank dispenser never seems to have the same issue. Just once, couldn’t the ATM slide two twenties out when I only requested one?

“Wait, wait, tell me if this is safe….”

I don’t even want to know. And to think, that was The Mister asking the teenager!