"What's wrong?"

I came home late on Monday (that's a lie, I've been coming home late, every night, for the passed month, or so) and, even though he insisted that nothing was wrong, I know that face.

"I'm sorry, but I had to help a client with a problem."

[silence IS deafening]

Oh, I understand.  Really, I do.  In fact, I've been to where he is, many times. 

"What's wrong with you?"

Then, the 8 year-old burst into tears.  

"I hate it that you're not home, when I get home!"

And ran into her father's arms.

"I HATE IT!"

A bang to the heart (what's left of it, I mean) and, well, I truly don't remember any of my kids calling out my husband, like that, not until he at least had his coat off, I mean.

"Well, I hate that you think I don't want to be home!"

Fear not, I've given up on being "The Mother of the Year" for quite sometime, now and, if you've ever read my blog, you know that this is the longest post I've written (on a Wednesday, anyway) in a very long while (you're welcome!) so, you know, my head is ready to explode, right?

"But, you guys are getting older and Daddy can't do it all on his own."

I know how lucky I am.  Trust me.  I have to live with myself, every day, knowing that my husband has the patience of a saint...er...well, not so much, anymore, in fact, he sounds a lot like I used to, lately.

"I'm on your team, remember?"

Yes, I remember.  It's just that I wish he believed me.  Why else would I make the choice to work, from home AND at night -- ironically, trying to make other people feel better about themselves -- and STILL feel like crap, either way, right?

"Why do you do it, then?"

Then, the 10 year-old decided to jump in on the dog pile.

"For you guys."

There, I said it.

"For Daddy's new car!"

Out loud!

"For Holly's car insurance!"

REAL LOUD!

"And for ALL the reasons you won't understand, until you're older!"

Sure, if it were up to me, I'd be happy to roll back the clock and pretend like it was 2003, all over again.

"Don't worry mom, I'm applying for that job on Friday!"

Aaaaand then, perhaps, maybe, not.

"Dad told me that I was going to have to pay for my own car insurance."

[silence]

"Besides, you and Daddy work too hard, already."

I'm sure that my 14-year-old would have agreed with my 16-year-old (if she were home, or not sleeping over a friends house and can you really blame her, I mean) YES, we are a team, DAMMIT!

"How are you going to get there?"

Good days, bad days, whatever, I truly believe it's those little in-between moments, that sometimes get lost in all the mundane and end up mattering the most.

"Don't worry Garth [not your real name] I'll drive her."

Even if my husband doesn't believe me, when I tell him, you know, I love you...I mean, him...not that I don't love you guys, or anything...GAH!...you know what I mean, right?

"Aaand, when are YOU going to find the time?"

Maybe he is a lot more like me, than he thinks, and just sometimes forgets even the best of teams have some really tough seasons, or twenty, I dunno?

"I'm off this Friday, remember?"

[cue choir of angels]

I don't even care that it's going to snow...AGAIN...a lot...maybe...DAMMIT!!!

"And I'm working this weekend."

Yes, I know, and I will be right here, waiting for Garth [not his real name] to get home, so at least we could shovel snow, together.

[phone rings]

That was Garth [not his real name] really, just now (for real) I mean, you just can't make this kind of stuff up (I'm not that clever, really) but, he just called to say...well...suffice it to say that I think he's beginning to believe me.

"CENSORED...gonna snow...CENSORED...make sure you knew...CENSORED...get your people squared away at work...CENSORED."

CENSORED = because, some things are just MORE special, when left...un-blogged...you're welcome!

Stupid snow!