These are So Not My Children

Sometimes I don't recognize my children when my husband is home.

They love having him home just like I do but they have a funny way of showing it.

He's still on that 50% work/travel schedule.  Home for 2 weeks (not always consecutive) and gone for 2 weeks (again, not always consecutive).  All in all, MUCH better than 100% gone.

So, he just returned from a week long trip to California and I have been looking forward to this weekend since he got on that plane to San Diego Monday morning.  The kids and I even had a good (super busy, that's key) week at home without him.  It was a lonely week and the house is totally haunted when he's gone, don't get me wrong, but I never once opened the Bacardi rum on top of the fridge and Abby walked away with only one new curse word  (I'll save that one for another post).

It's just that I think the kids have bloodhound senses and they know that we (the adults) haven't gotten things figured out yet.  We are all still adjusting to the adjustment, so to speak.  What I mean is we're now over the post deployment thing and now we're fleshing out the next chapter of  Back and Forthness.  Along with so many families out there in this economy, we are doing the best we can and thankful for even one of us making a good living.  One byproduct is simply having to hash out the rules and boundaries of both life with and without two parents in the house at any given time.

Since the deployment, I've gotten really good at handling the children and they in turn know how to handle me.  We are a formidable tripod.  Then, when Andy is here, suddenly we have to morph in to a square with four sides instead of our comfortable three.  That sounds bad, it's not that I don't wish for a comfortable square, it's just not for any of us right now.  I realize it will get better but OHMYGOD you guys, do they make it hard on him.

The whining, Oh, the alley cat in heat like whining.
The oppositional defiance, downright refusals of his requests.
The twisted glee they show when finally getting him to mutter up a blue streak under his breath.

 

The resentment I feel when I have to explain to the children that Mommy will have to wear a white jacket that holds all her limbs in place if they do not, in fact, allow their father to bathe them/feed them/play with them without making it the most miserable experience on the planet for all involved.

Do your kids do this?  If you don't have kids, do your friends' kids do this?  If you don't have friends with kids, just use your best single sighted preconceived notion judgy judgement here.  What do you do?  What do your friends do?  Are they begging for stricter boundaries that exist no matter who is here when?  Do I need a SuperNanny flowchart scotch taped to my kitchen door? Should I capitalize on all our pent up angst and sign all of us up for Muay Thai?

I think I'm up for that bottle of Bacardi now.  Who's in?