The Laundry Pit

Heck, have the whole bottle.

Yesterday was tough.
Hubby had been gone since Friday a.m., he had OEM training on Friday all day (which means no IM- no chat) and then left town right after for a motorcross race that was the entire weekend.
After three weekends of chaos (he had another race right after we got home from NYC and I was down with the flu at home) this was my first full day home with him in nearly a month- and we had SO much to do.

I envy women who just lose their husbands to the TV on Sundays. At least he's home. At least he's where you can see him, and get an occasional grunt of indifference to whatever you ask him- as his eyes never leave the screen and the gridiron within.  I might also add that such a scenario is ideal to ask questions about those tough-to-discuss topics;

"Do you think we need to buy a new.......?"
"What do you think of me and the girls going for a girls' weekend to......and putting it on the credit card?"

And so on.

My husband, and I love him down to every raven-black curl on his head, every freckle on his shoulders, down to his last goofy little atom.......  My husband insists on going out in the middle of nowhere and getting on a motorized bike- and tearing thru the woods, deserts, rocky culverts and other desolate spots- in four states- at varying and usually high rates of speed. (sigh)

Yeah- his job; helicopters, rock cliffs, fires, chemicals, searches in extreme temps and conditions, finding lost people, handling disasters large and small, the occasional (and sad) recovery op where a search has resulted in a distressing finding......yeah, his job isn't enough adrenaline...[take a BIG sip of Bitch]

Perhaps I may come off as paranoid and controlling, and in some ways you'd be right to think that.  But, I have reasons for the paranoia and wanting to keep him close;

He's the only husband of three, that I've been upset to be away from.  Visibly upset. Hugely upset.

I realize that, too, is a weird sign in that I've married twice before- and found after the first six months to a year- that I feel relief when he was away or I was away from him.  Probably was a red flag....several red flags.   But- live and learn, right?

My husband, next to my girls, is my life.  I shudder at his stories of broken bones and near-misses at these races. I cringe at his stories of people that encounter rocks, trees and other immovable objects with pieces of their bodies, which yield to the said object with distressing, and often gory, results.  I really don't like the idea of anything happening to those freckles, or those curls, or any other part of him for that matter.  I don't like the idea of doing anything without him- or having him in pieces.  I don't like the idea of him being hit by an idiot....either on the course or the highway- and either not being the man I have now, or not being, at all.

I know he's an expert- I know he's probably one of the most skilled guys on the course- but I also know there are a number of idiots who think they can do what he can- and they are gravely mistaken- and usually somewhere within 10 feet of my beloved muddy-hubby at some point in his loop of the course.  Idiots in range of my beloved, with motorized vehicles and a lack of common sense. Eeeesh.

My secondary thought on this is that by getting married, you often give up elements of being single- barhopping, cruising the scene, and doing things that deliberately exclude your spouse on a level that displeasure, discomfort, angst.....are involved.  I can't go with him.  I can't go and just be on site. I can't leave our kids, and our work, and our home, and go do that with him- or be there when he ambles off the bike covered in mud and thistles and what-have-you.  I just can't.   My obligations here....are too many. The situation there, not exactly ideal for a girl that prefers pavement to dirt.   I want him to have something of his hobby- just.....maybe not so much of it.

I worry about things happening to him.
I worry as we can't communicate at all sometimes while he's gone.
I worry as he covers several hours worth of driving in areas where...well, places I'd rather he wasn't.
I worry as he often gets home late, and is exhausted, dehydrated, and 'useless' for a few days afterward.
I wonder why it's worth all that- sometimes.
I envy the woman who just has to tolerate a big-screen TV somewhere, or a room painted his team colors....or the donning of a jersey once a week and him parking himself in his favorite chair. 

I suppose....I love him no matter what, and will love him whatever he does- just kinda sucks sometimes.
So.....I sat down with a big glass of Bitch, and some cheesecake last night after talking to him about how I feel about this....and we'll see what he thinks about that.
(sigh)