All the things I meant to do this summer...

I’m the queen of lists. I make lists everyday: Things To Do, Things To Buy, People To Call, you name it, I can make a list for it. And probably have. I feel better when things are organized. Don’t confuse my organization with a need to have my house completely clean 24/7. I’m not a neat freak. But I like order. A game plan, if you will.

I had a game plan for this summer.

While Alvin was in Yakima for training for a month, I planned to paint both the kids’ bedrooms. David wanted blue and Alex wanted green and pink. I thought it would be a great project while they were with their mom, so when they got home they’d have a brand new room. Well, that didn’t happen. I didn’t even buy the paint. So, I thought I’d do it after Alvin left for Wisconsin. I knew I wouldn’t do it while he was home.

Yeah, that hasn’t happened either, and school starts Wednesday.

I’d also planned on deep cleaning every room in the house, which I’d still like to do in the near future.

I was going to put a new screen door on Alex’s sliding glass door (or, really big window as far as she’s concerned!).

So, I’m disappointed in myself. I’ve been too obsessed with the fact that my husband’s gone to buckle down and work on any kind of project. Hell, I’d be happy laying on my bed all day watching bad movies on TV. Frankly, that embarrasses me. I should have my shit together by now. I’ve known since October of last year that this was coming. I guess I was in denial.

I’ll get it all done. I always do. It’s just more fun when I have my partner in crime to do it with me.

Everything’s more fun with him.

Sleepless without him.

Sleep doesn't come easily when he's not here. My body's routine of listening to his breathing and movement, feeling the rise and fall of his chest under my cheek and arm as I'm wrapped around him, smelling his scent around me and feeling his hand on the small of my back is gone, and I'm not adjusting to the silence. To the loneliness of being in this big bed without him. To having to have an extra blanket on the bed to make up for his warmth being gone.

It seems that it hits me the hardest at night. The reality that he's not here, and won't be for a long time, sinks in. And my body just isn't willing to relax and fall into sleep without him. I have a feeling that this is when I'll do the most writing, when the kids are safely tucked in and snoring, the infomercials are flashing on my television and my cat is curled up in her sleepy spot at the foot of the bed, impervious to my restlessness.

I miss him, in a thousand different ways, but its now that it hurts the most. Like a toothache that I can't soothe, and there's nothing that can ease the pain of being without him.

Only him.