Words of the Week: run for it
It's 9:23pm, here on a Wednesday night, and this is the first that I have written in this week's blog. I'm sitting in my bed, with Real Housewives of NJ in the background. I figured if I busted out my chromebook, then I would at least start writing. Sort of like when you don't want to workout, start by putting on your workout clothes. If you are dressed the part, there is a strong chance you will continue and get that workout in.
The real reason that I haven't written much this week is because it's been a shitty week: the tragedy in Las Vegas, my back (degenerated disc) has been flared up, I'm also having some weird head-spacey stuff going on, Steve and I are at odds with one another, I've got some personal drama going on (which is very rare for me...and drama is exhausting), and my love tank is low. Oh, and work has been nuts. I've just not been in the mood to write. Aside from all that I just wrote, it appears I have my shit together. The kids are great, and our evenings aren't racing around but rather slow and easy. It's nice when I don't feel overwhelmed. We are hosting a party this weekend, so the calm nights have allowed me to prepare for that.
Another reason I haven't written much is because there isn't much pilot wife stuff going on this week. Well, I guess the low love tank is pilot wife related. What happens when your period is followed by a daddy/son camp out, which is then followed by a 4-day trip? You guessed it...little physical touch and not much filling of the love tank. There are times, here and there, where our routines are mixed up and this is the prime time for love tanks to go dry. It sucks. But, when he is gone as much as he is, it's inevitable. At least I recognize a low tank, and am comfortable with vocalizing it. And thankfully Steve knows how to respond.
***
Steve overnighted in Seattle on Thursday. He called me while he was waiting for his dinner. He rarely does this. Sometimes I'll talk to him while he is walking to a restaurant, or walking home from one, but rarely while he is waiting for food. It's interesting how these guys form habits, and how us pilot wives are very aware of these habits...and very aware when these habits change. I'm not getting at anything, so don't let your mind go there. I'm sure that Steve was just checking on me due to my shitty week. Or, maybe the internet wasn't entertaining him enough. But, it's funny how I noticed this small change in behavior.
***
As I was editing this post on Thursday evening, the kids were in the shower and getting themselves ready for bed. All the sudden, the smoke alarms start to go off. To note, we have about eight in our house and they all "talk" to one another. If one goes off, then they all do, and it gets loud.
They were chiming for not more than 3 seconds and Ben bolted out the front door. I witnessed the whole thing from our office, which is off the foyer. He was out the front door, and he was coming from upstairs!, in the same time it took for me to barely get out of my chair. Perhaps I should start calling him "Flash."
Cici was quick to follow. She was actually in a shower when the alarms started, and was able to make it downstairs just seconds after Ben. She stalled in the foyer recognizing it was inappropriate to go outside naked. I ran upstairs and got her a towel. By the time I gave Cici a towel the alarms stopped.
The kids wanted to stand on the front sidewalk while I investigated the house and the cause of the alarms. Enter pilot-wife, the keeper of the house when the pilot is gone. Mama's gotta figure shit out. I walked around the house, including the basement, and didn't see any signs of smoke or fire. I, then, reset the alarms. Done.
I praised the kids for their quick response. And I mean quick! Ben was freaked out, and needed a couple hugs to calm him. I also gave him, and Cici, a dose of my anti-anxiety essential oils. That helped, even if it was a placebo effect.
And what does a good mom do when her kids are anxious...take a picture! Poor kiddos. Nothing like getting your adrenaline going before bed.
Wishing you all a good weekend. Our Halloween party is this weekend, so look for some pictures. Steve is going to be fucking hilarious...mustache (eww!) and all.
The real reason that I haven't written much this week is because it's been a shitty week: the tragedy in Las Vegas, my back (degenerated disc) has been flared up, I'm also having some weird head-spacey stuff going on, Steve and I are at odds with one another, I've got some personal drama going on (which is very rare for me...and drama is exhausting), and my love tank is low. Oh, and work has been nuts. I've just not been in the mood to write. Aside from all that I just wrote, it appears I have my shit together. The kids are great, and our evenings aren't racing around but rather slow and easy. It's nice when I don't feel overwhelmed. We are hosting a party this weekend, so the calm nights have allowed me to prepare for that.
Another reason I haven't written much is because there isn't much pilot wife stuff going on this week. Well, I guess the low love tank is pilot wife related. What happens when your period is followed by a daddy/son camp out, which is then followed by a 4-day trip? You guessed it...little physical touch and not much filling of the love tank. There are times, here and there, where our routines are mixed up and this is the prime time for love tanks to go dry. It sucks. But, when he is gone as much as he is, it's inevitable. At least I recognize a low tank, and am comfortable with vocalizing it. And thankfully Steve knows how to respond.
***
Steve overnighted in Seattle on Thursday. He called me while he was waiting for his dinner. He rarely does this. Sometimes I'll talk to him while he is walking to a restaurant, or walking home from one, but rarely while he is waiting for food. It's interesting how these guys form habits, and how us pilot wives are very aware of these habits...and very aware when these habits change. I'm not getting at anything, so don't let your mind go there. I'm sure that Steve was just checking on me due to my shitty week. Or, maybe the internet wasn't entertaining him enough. But, it's funny how I noticed this small change in behavior.
***
As I was editing this post on Thursday evening, the kids were in the shower and getting themselves ready for bed. All the sudden, the smoke alarms start to go off. To note, we have about eight in our house and they all "talk" to one another. If one goes off, then they all do, and it gets loud.
They were chiming for not more than 3 seconds and Ben bolted out the front door. I witnessed the whole thing from our office, which is off the foyer. He was out the front door, and he was coming from upstairs!, in the same time it took for me to barely get out of my chair. Perhaps I should start calling him "Flash."
Cici was quick to follow. She was actually in a shower when the alarms started, and was able to make it downstairs just seconds after Ben. She stalled in the foyer recognizing it was inappropriate to go outside naked. I ran upstairs and got her a towel. By the time I gave Cici a towel the alarms stopped.
The kids wanted to stand on the front sidewalk while I investigated the house and the cause of the alarms. Enter pilot-wife, the keeper of the house when the pilot is gone. Mama's gotta figure shit out. I walked around the house, including the basement, and didn't see any signs of smoke or fire. I, then, reset the alarms. Done.
I praised the kids for their quick response. And I mean quick! Ben was freaked out, and needed a couple hugs to calm him. I also gave him, and Cici, a dose of my anti-anxiety essential oils. That helped, even if it was a placebo effect.
And what does a good mom do when her kids are anxious...take a picture! Poor kiddos. Nothing like getting your adrenaline going before bed.
Wishing you all a good weekend. Our Halloween party is this weekend, so look for some pictures. Steve is going to be fucking hilarious...mustache (eww!) and all.
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