Monday, March 15, 2010


(I'm post-dating this entry on the chance that someone reading right now knows where I live and, therefore, knows I'm home alone. The alarm is on, but still...can't be too careful.)

Many people would call my husband a bit of a workaholic. He isn't nearly as bad as so many other people out there, but compared to many of our friends, he works a heck of a lot. The husband has worked for the same place since his college days in 1999, so I've had a long time to built up my resentment for this place (since we've been together in early 2002) and each time he takes a phone call, checks his email, or works extra hours, the resentment grows.

I'm trying my best, though, to keep it all in check. I know he loves his job. No, he doesn't love the hours away from home, the frustrating people he works with at times, but he does generally love what he does. He loves the challenges. He hates that it takes him away from home, but he sacrifices. I believe that he's sacrificing for all of us. He's great at his job. He puts a lot of himself into it and has a lot of respect from his coworkers and, more importantly, his bosses. The people at the top of the organization are grooming him to move up within the organization and I know that really excites him. So I try my hardest to be happy for him.

It's nights like these, though, that it's hard to maintain the perspective. He left here after baby girl went to bed (around 7:30--we were happy it was only a half an hour late after the daylight savings time change last night). If she had slept well, this wouldn't be a huge deal. Yes, I'm nervous when he's gone, but I have a bit of peace of mind with the security system armed. However, baby girl has now been awake three times in as many hours. Of course she slept well 7:30 to 9:20, but has been up at 9:20, 10:15, and 10:35. It's such a struggle dealing with that by myself and makes me miss my husband even more.

So here I sit at almost 11:00 Sunday night, trying to recover from a cold (and therefore feeling like crap and really needing some sleep), not wanting to get in bed because I know I'll be up again very soon. I just hope he gets home least before she wakes again.

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