Does anyone else actually enjoy it when their husband goes away on a trip? Or does that make me an unloving wife?
It's not like I boot him out the door or roll my eyes when he calls to check-in, but I absolutely love having some time to myself. I love that my house stays clean (well, you know, neat anyway). And I love that I can get so much done in the evenings. The minute he tells me he has a trip, I start making lists of what all I'm going to do with my free time, and without that nagging feeling that I'm taking time and attention away from him. Ah, guilt free living.
It's like...Autonomy Week.
See, I'm not so good at doing things outside the house, just for me. You know, girl's night out or a class or therapy. I just don't do it. I think about it, I sometimes even fantasize about it a little, but I have no follow through. So, his business trips are really my personal recharge times, too. I'll do a little DIY spa night and clean my ears and loofa between my toes and walk around with mashed avocado on my face. I'll sip tea and listen to lesbian music. I'll snuggle in bed and sew while watching movies he would hate and weep over them like a fool. It's only a week. But it's a glorious, wonderful week.
And I assure you, the feeling is mutual. He loves spreading out in a big bed by himself and not having someone yank on the covers or kick him when he inadvertantly crosses the maginot line (apparently, I'm not a very nice person in the middle of the night). He enjoys sleeping deeply (and late) without the edgy fear that a baby might scream out in the darkness. And then there's Sports Center.
When we were back east, I'd go off to Cincinnati, or Miami, or Boston on 13 week show runs and he'd go off on 8 week film shoots from time to time. We'd have one
visit in the middle--and let me tell you it was a great visit. Since we moved out west he's gone back to the city for a
week every month or so. I think these
separations have been good for us--ongoing breaks to tune into our own
needs, reconnect with being individual human beings, and occasional reminders of how much the other person
actually does for us and how much we appreciate it.
The fun really only last about 4 days, then I start to miss him. I actually love the whole progression though--the growing anticipation of his trip and the coming alone time, the prospect of getting so much done in the evenings, ticking things of my list, starting to miss him, talking about missing each other on the phone, the eagerness for his return, and finally, welcoming him home. It's all a nice change from the routine.
Anyway, he leaves tomorrow afternoon and my list is made.
Sappy or scary movie suggestions now being accepted.