Mondays are always hard. Husband took Friday off so we had yet another three day weekend, filled with late nights, tears and a lot of holding each other. We used to joke that when we had kids there would be times that we would be messy heaps on the floor while the neglected children learned the hard way how to care for themselves.
We have arrived at our prediction.
And it isn’t so bad.
Good thing the kiddles love movies! I picked up a classic Speed Racer dvd for HM and that kept all three occupied for the entire weekend. I’m not sure if it was a blessing or a curse that we had a Chicken Pox scare and stayed home from church. Church is hard. I know, I know, church isn’t for the social, for the people, but for the benefit of the individual, but it’s still hard. We missed last week, and the week before, husband was out of town, and I only made it to the second half, walking out of Relief Society in tears. Maybe they’ll send a committee after us to “bring us back.” Then again, we have a 75% “less” active rate in our ward, so the committees are all pretty much booked out for a while. One benefit to being in a small ward in a small stake in a small area in the Middle of Nowhere.
Back to Monday Morning.
After lying around, licking our wounds, and talking over each tiny minute detail of our feelings, Monday Morning feels like tearing a fresh scab off the wound. An extremely large issue I have is giving husband the key to all my happiness- even though he doesn’t want it. If I don’t know how he is feeling, I don’t know where I should be emotionally. (I’m working through this in long-overdue therapy.) Being the precious angel that he is, he checks in throughout the day. (This is so disjointed.)
His Gayness has become my main occupation. Unfortunately, it doesn’t have the ability to keep me productively occupied, so I find myself wandering. I have become obsessed with the other countless “moho” bloggers and websites. We decided to return the iphones due to lack of decent coverage in our small town, and that should help keep my nose out of the blogosphere. Back to dishes and laundry! I’ll need to reintroduce myself to my kids and the washing machine. Bummer.
Anniversary #13 is coming up in one month. Can’t expect sex. Do I bother shaving? We are going for a massage. Do I ask for a straight guy for him so he gets his male touch requirement filled without the threat of action? OR will having a guy massaging his thighs just get him so revved up it won’t matter the intent of the massag-er? I hate knowing the extent of his attraction. (and, conversely, the extent of his utter LACK of attraction.) frownsmile.
kids are climbing again.