I don't really blame my husband for being gone during his once-a-week night out. I begrudge him that time like crazy, but I don't hate him for it or anything. I want to punch him in the face for it sometimes, yeah, but only in a friendly way.
But right now, for example, it is 7:57 p.m. Bedtime here is 7 because my kids are evil morning people and wake up by 6 each morning.
Right now I can hear that G5 is tiptoeing to her brothers' room and talking to them. This is after a 30-minute tantrum, after I had to lay in bed with them one at a time to get them to stop hyperventilating, after I put the baby to bed, then G5 to bed, then G5 needed markers and a coloring book because she wasn't tired, then she came downstairs and needed medicine... I need a fucking break.
Today was a rough day and I really handled it well, for me. I didn't lose my temper with them. I tried to make the day fun and not stay angry at them for the dumb-kid things they did.
Still, though, I've been with them for 11 hours straight by the time he leaves. And he deserves the time away, and he offers and gives me time away whenever I want it, but that doesn't negate the fact that the 12-14 hour day I put in with them is a long one.
And that our cat just threw up in the fucking living room.
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