Think of me what you will. In six days, I have not asked a single human to brush his/her teeth. Dirty clothing has not appeared, as if by Harry Potter apparation, in the middle of the stair case. I haven't sounded like a mob-boss with threats like, "I really don't think you want to find out..." or "How would you like it if I slapped/teased/kicked you like that?" Not once, this whole week, have I looked at the clock at 10pm and thought, "Oh alright, I guess I'm on bedtime patrol tonight." Our utility bill has plummetted with every single light not left running 24 hours. The toilet has not backed up once.
The house has been so much calmer, I look like I've had botox. A lot of botox. I may have to get some if it will make me look so much less angry all the time. When I go to take a shower and get dressed, I can ... (wait for it)... take a shower and GET DRESSED. There are no fights to break up. No one has used my flat-iron as a light saber and broken it. I start my make up, then *poof*
I know I'm not alone when it comes to being ok with longer separations. There are multi-week and multi-month camps. There are even boarding schools. There is glaring geo-political evidence to prove other parents share my feelings. In addition to secured banking, gorgeous watches, and killer chocolate, the Swiss have some of the world's finest boarding schools. That's why no one invades them. That's why they can remain neutral all the time. EVERY country wants some place to send their kids from time to time. They carved out this much needed niche, surrounding the little hellions with the soaring Alps to "safeguard" them. Every country has a vested interest maintaining this haven. It's political genius, really.
Please don't get me wrong. I do miss my sons. I do want them home, at some point. Soon. Basically.
I'll be really happy to see Son1 on Saturday morning at his Naval Cadet Corp graduation. Obviously, I'll be happy because that means I'll be off I95 at some point, but in a bigger sense, yes, I'll be excited to see him. I'll be psyched to get his half-hearted "please don't cry or hug me in front of the guys" greeting. I'll be happy to see him greet Jersey Diva Grandma warmly. (Apparently it is always cool to hug one's grandmother, even through tween years.)
When I return to NJ late Saturday night, I'll creep in to kiss Son2's little blonde head. I'll be excited Sunday morning to hear all his stories. Sunday evening will be a return to routine in the house, the semi-contained chaos that is our zoo. For now, I do have to say I'm enjoying the waning hours of quiet. Time to stowe the keyboard and head for one last romantic dinner with the hubs as our mini-holiday comes to an end. And so, as we'll await our cocktails, and discuss the practicality and affordability of the boarding school near my aunts' home in Maine, I will think of them fondly. And then I'll fondly think how nice it is to start eating without cutting anyone's meat. Like I said, think of me what you will. ; )