Almost home.

Our week alone is nearly over, and, thankfully, it’s been a quiet one. Some of his trips have have left me with far more interesting stories to tell. Backed up septic, green wood that wouldn’t heat the house above 50°, and a chimney fire top the list. Twice I discovered I was pregnant while he was away. Once I had to carry a flaming log through the basement and garage. Once I pinched my hand in the bolt action lock on the shed. My hand still bears the scar.

The most exciting thing that happened this week was school and chores. We had a park play date. We went to rummage sales. I made it to church with everyone having brushed their teeth, properly attired, and hair done. I sat in the pew, amazed at my successes, baby asleep in my lap. I totally had this! Stellan cried as if on cue. Pride goes before the fall. He and I spent the rest of the service listening over the speaker in the foyer.

Pierce taped his ears down, “because they were hitting him in the forehead, getting in his eyes, and bugging him”. He gets points for creativity with his reason for getting into the tape. He’ll have to work on better believability for next time. He stuck to his story though, and wore the tape for the better part of an hour before declaring them to be properly fixed.

Elliot called me ‘Adrienne’ yesterday. She’d been scolded and was told she needed to say “Yes, momma” when she hadn’t responded to her instructions, and she looked me in the eye and said, ” Yes, Adrienne. ” If you’d have asked, I’d have said she didn’t actually know my given name. I’d have been wrong. Later when I got her pj’s on after her shower, she told me she wanted Liberty, and that I needed to go buh-bye. She was immediately remorseful when I told her she’d been rude, but clearly she’s missing her Daddy… and she’s decided that’s all my fault.

He’ll be home tomorrow.