Being nice

I'm being nice today. I don't feel nice, I'm actually quite annoyed, but nonetheless, I'm being nice. I'm being nice because it's the nice thing to do. But like I said, deep down inside, I'm completely and utterly perturbed. Why? Because I'm without a husband. Again.

He was gone most of the month of August. He has been gone this past week and as a result, there was the unfortunate fence incident.

This weekend, he went on a "Men's retreat," which I thought was an event sponsored by our church, but later discovered was in fact a group of around eight guys in their early 30s from our church, hanging out at a cabin and doing whatever men do when their wives aren't around to disapprove.

Because work has been horrible for Bryan, and because he was recently diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis, and because life has, in the last few months basically sucked for him, I told him it was probably a good thing that he was going on a trip to the wilderness with other men to do man things.

However, the idea was that he would return today around 1pm so that we could have a few hours of daylight together as a family and so that I could have some time by myself to prepare for the upcoming school week. You see, he leaves at 5am tomorrow to return to Los Angeles. Again.

For those playing the home game, this means he will have been gone five of the last eight weeks, leaving me a single parent transitioning in my new job; a new job as a teacher; a first-year teacher, at a new school, at the beginning of the school year.

You could say things have been a touch tense. But I have been nice, because it is necessary to maintain.

This morning at around 10:45 am, after yet another sad night of no sleep as I was up and down with our child (who has yet another ear infection,) I texted my husband to confirm his mid-day ETA. He texted me back that he should be home around 4 or 5pm. I immediately questioned how 1pm turned into 4 or 5 and he informed me that there had been a scheduling/communication snafu with the other menfolk.

About an hour later, he called me to inform me that the men had again mis-calculated their time and had missed the ferry. They would now be on the 4:45pm ferry, meaning he should be home after 8pm.

He leaves for Los Angeles tomorrow around 5am.

I am rising above, and I being nice; it is taking all the power in my being, but I am being nice.