Pieter is away tonight.
He is down in Auckland overnight doing stuff to do with work. He is a very hard worker. Have I mentioned that before? Pieter is one of the most diligent workers that Mainfreight has, they don't realise just how awesome he is, I'm sure...
But anyway, I was just thinking while handwashing the dishes (because that is when my best thinking happens) that, tonight, the ratio of kids to adults is 3:1. I'm going to be outnumbered by a higher number than usual.
And normally that isn't a problem. It's the ratio that I deal with most days, but today is different. There is no promise of rescue, no light at the end of the tunnel. My husband is not coming home at the end of the day to even up the odds, or at least make them even-er.
And it occurred to me that I'm not alone in this. Being a stay-at-home mom is like living in a mental wasteland. There is very little by way of intellectual stimulation and I know that I am not the only mom out there who is grateful for a husband who comes home at the end of the day.
When Pieter walks in the door he is my knight in shining armour. He is my rescuer and I am the damsel in distress. His arrival heralds the return of sanity to my world. The return of adult conversation and the ability to contemplate intellectual concepts without interruption. I am not the only adult in the house and therefore I can relax, just a little.
I don't have to listen to the repetitive songs of Playhouse Disney or Nick Jr. I don't have to get up every two minutes to get an updated progress report on Blossoms systematic destruction of my house. I don't have to wonder if my makeup is safe from her pudgy little hands. I don't have to be the only one worrying whether watching his brother play Minecraft is going to give The Frog nightmares tonight. I'm not the only one wondering why The Jord feels that a webcam on his laptop is essential. I'm not the only short-order cook fielding requests for juice and peanut butter 'sammiches.'
I'm so grateful that someone is coming to save me. Someone is coming home to let me be me, whoever that is, and not have to be everything to everyone else.
I don't know how single parents do this.
But it's not happening tonight. Tonight I am it. The only adult.
Pray for me please?
UPDATED: And pray for my brother and sister-in-law too. Andrew has just gone down to Christchurch to be a part of the big rebuild happening down there. Sherri is still up here and will stay until Andrew can find them a house. As you can imagine, with the massive earthquake damage, housing is in very short supply and what there is, is very expensive. She may be alone in the wasteland for a long while yet. Lift them in your prayers too, please?