Hang Time

Cutie Pie was out of town last night. This is a rare occurrence at our house, since he doesn't travel for his job on a regular basis. Many of my friends have traveling hubbies, and it can be pretty hard on them. Many are not comfortable being alone at night. And then there are those moms who are alone every night. Single moms, or temporarily single moms...I have a dear cousin who will not see her husband at night for probably a year, as he is serving in Iraq. This is unimaginable, and her bravery is quite breathtaking. For me, a husband who comes home every night is a much-looked-forward-to part of my day. It's that time when you can say, "Whew." And "Here." And I am ever so grateful to be allowed the privilege of having him here every night. It is a major comfort, for sure. But I do enjoy the random bachelorette night. I used to love traveling for my job. Check into a nicer hotel than I would ever pay for myself, eat a big ole' expensive dinner without looking at the price, take a long bath with the bathroom door open, lay in bed and read or watch inane TV show 'till all hours, with the lights on. Sleep in the middle of the bed. This is good stuff, once in a while. Now that I don't do any solo traveling, I must say I enjoyed my night alone. (Well, alone in that my little ones were asleep in the next room, but still.) There were a few hours last night when no one needed me. No one expected me to do anything or be anywhere or say anything. I puttered around the house, and it was delicious and decadent. I ate beefaroni out of the can. I drank wine. I did laundry and cleaned the kitchen, which I enjoy doing when I don't have to do it. (OK, how weird is that? Sometimes I feel like I have to clean up -- to avoid letting the people I love, including myself, live in a pigsty-- but at the same time I feel guilty cleaning up because that means I'm not spending "quality time" with someone in this house. My therapy bill would be huge if I could afford to be in therapy, huh?) I did not sleep in the middle of the bed though. Some things must remain sacred, and his side of the bed is waiting for him tonight pretty well unrumpled.

It's strange when you live with a gaggle of people. Solitude is scarce, yet required, in order to think one's own thoughts. I once heard a psychologist discuss personality types. He helped us determine our type, using the Myers Briggs test. I was classified as INFJ or "introverted intuition with extraverted feeling." He described me perfectly when he said that introverts need time and space to process thoughts and feelings. They enjoy being with people, but become drained after a short time of lively interaction. They crave order and predictability. I observed that this seems to be a personality type that is in direct conflict with being a mother of young children. How does an INFJ deal? He just shrugged. "You just have to wait it out." Alrighty then.

Here is one secret about our "bachelorette night." Don't tell Cutie Pie. I made pancakes for the girls this morning. This is completely his realm, but it's the only thing I had in the house. They really weren't that good. They were a little burned. They are so much better when he makes them. I'm looking forward to tomorrow morning.