Jam on it.

H is away today. This doesn't happen often at all, he is here, always.
I worry that I take this man for granted ( and know that I do) he is just so quietly here, getting on with what he does, so quietly that I hardly know he is doing it, until he isn't here, not doing doing it. Oh my hell.
I used to be so competent and confident and sure of how good I was at things. I rarely got phased by even the greatest trial.
H left at 5am to go to the temple with some other men from church. He loves the temple, he positively thrives on everything there.
At 6am Isaac woke up ( too early, sooooo early for mum) snuggled into bed with me, phew. 6.20am Seth got up " It's SATURDAY, cool 6am, oh...into bed with mum, wriggle squirm relax, phew. 7am Eli up, everyone up.
By 8am I knew this was going to be a long day. The boys are going through a 'testosterone is us' phase, me boy- me fight. Exhausting, loud and dear me please let the grandbaby be a girl one because frills and frocks seem to appealing to me lately.
As dull as it is to keep harping on about it, we are still having trouble with money, or not having any. Still the problems over that late tenancy agreement, still not getting money through, still having to rob Peter and not pay Paul. Rainy day, no money apart from just enough to Tax the car ( £99 for 6 months yeegads) so the day was stretching ahead in a painful way.
Hoorah then for Jane who called and said she would take Seth and Isaac ( when is it finished are we going home yet?) to the movies. Ahhhhh, heaven.
The thing is, H is so hands on with these boys. He plays basketball, he reads, he teaches, he talks, he shows, he even jumps on the trampoline every day. I stay on one side and do all my stuff, I get things done without little boys harassing me, I nip out to the shops and I get things done. I have jam on it.
Life is pretty smooth, until H isn't here. I see just how much he does and I am left feeling a quivering heap of helplessness.
Have to tax the car ( Oh NO, must take them with me, 3 of them, all at once, all the way over the road, all 26 steps away, and stand in line and sweat over the fact that they may not be good boys.) What is heavens name happened to me?? I have jam on it, that's what. Spoiled brat in fact. They were fine, they were good boys, I did it. Of course.
I read to them this evening, usually so relieved when they trot off at 7.30, lantern in hand, book in daddy's hand, I sigh and relax and know that tomorrow we will do it all again. Tonight I sat and read, Tennis shoes and the feathered Serpent, sitting on the toy bench in Isaac and Eli's room, Seth spread on the rug. As I read Seth got closer and then he was sitting right next to me, leaning on my arm. He is the least smoochy of all my children, most like his dad in the emotional department, he is tough and manly and pah! All that smoochie stuff. Until bedtime, when he needs his fix, he needs to be stroked and kissed and have his back scratched and all on his terms thankyouverymuch.
To have this little boy be the one to snuggle into me, to feel him melt onto my arm as he listened and relaxed, well I got to see why daddy does this so willingly every evening.
I see how poorly I have been. This whole moving, cleaning, worrying time has made me a whole other person and I have forgotten a lot of what matters. I get so cross lately, my head so full of making ends meet and trying to make this whole holiday happen, the noise and the boys and the mess has made me crazy. I am sick of yelling and feeling ,my head throbs with the pretzels on the floor, with the mess Elijah seems to molt. He walks through a room and leaves trail of crap behind him, if it can be spilled, crushed, crunched, torn, tipped, trodden, Elijah is your man, he is delicious with his puffing and his " huh, ne'er mind, it don't matter, iss a attsident, Iss Otay" but dear life how much can you take in one day? On wednesday he had a banana milk, in a bottle from the shop, he was so excited LOOK, he said to gramma, look-at-I-dot" held it high and ..well he hadn't put the lid on properly, all over his head, all over the floor and he stood, drip drip, "oh, iss otay, it don't matter does it?" and it doesn't really. Before I know it he will be all grown up and unclumsy, I will think of this time and miss it. I hope.
Somehow I have to try and get back a perspective on this life. I am tired of feeling so cross and worried. I understand that I have to do the less pleasant chores and I have to get things done, I just don't want to keep missing the important stuff while I get it done.
H is home. The great thing about having someone go away is being able to welcome them home. Welcome him I did too, lovely man.