confused momThere is something mildly perplexing about being a woman. Or about being me, in particular. A state of confusion that comes naturally and is uncontrollable. Regardless of my efforts to not be confused, or the cause of such confusion. One minute we, or I, want one thing and the next? Well, the next minute we, or I, am demanding the complete opposite thing. I’m sure this never happens to you. It might be just me.


But I have my doubts…


When a man or a child shakes their head after something we’ve said or done it is because we are crazy. Not because they are unreasonable. I mean, sometimes they are totally unreasonable. But mostly it’s because we just said or did something and then we asked for or requested something completely contrary.


Here’s an example, in case I am confusing you. Which I most likely am. My husband works out of town. He has for two months now and will for the next 4-6 months. He comes home on weekends. Five nights gone, two nights home. There is nothing confusing about that. Here is the confusing part. Last weekend my husband was home for four nights instead of the regular two. Which means that for four nights I had someone in my bed thrashing around, breathing funny and just generally wreaking havoc upon my sleep.


I’m still not done with the confusing part. I thought he was leaving Sunday but due to some unforeseen issues he stayed Sunday night. And then then stayed Monday night. By Tuesday I was so tired and anxious about why he was still lingering I was practically driving him back to work myself.


I miss him when he’s gone, I really do. I really really do.


But I do love that great big bed all on my own. I sleep great. I miss him. But I sleep great. It’s such a predicament.


This is to be taken seriously. By everyone. Do you see?


Still not done with the confusing. Okay, so after four nights he finally left town. The next day he texted me to say the long weekend had put him behind and he wouldn’t be coming home for the next weekend because he needed the extra time to work.


Makes sense.


I thought about it. Ten nights. Ten nights until he was due to return. Ten nights of that glorious bed all to myself. Could I have asked for more? I don’t think I could have asked for more.


About 12 hours later, as I was sitting in class listening intently to my professor go on and on about Everyman, it dawned on me that ten nights was way too long! Ten nights? By myself? In that great big bed?


This simply would not do.


So I found child care for four kids, booked a hotel room (where we all know how not appealing the beds are) and drove the three hours to spend the weekend with my husband in a hotel. Where the bed is much smaller than my large, empty bed at home.


And this is where you can all shake your heads at how little sense I make.


Confused? Yep…


An amazing collection of bright women who somehow manage to work, play, parent and survive and write blog posts all at the same time. We are the BLUNTmoms, always honest, always direct and surprising hilarious.

1 Comment

  1. I love sleeping by myself but hate when he works nights. Make sense? I totally get why my grandparents didn’t share a bed.

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