Cowgirl_Mom

Ramblings of a Mom
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Ezoic
2005-07-11 15:05:30 (UTC)

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

Or at least the husband grows fonder of his wife and
family, and quite a bit harder (in the private region).
LOL My husband has been gone almost a week (it will be a
week tomorrow morning at 3:10 am), and we went to spend the
weekend with him this past weekend. He had informed me
before we left home Friday night that he had better be
getting a blow job when I arrived Friday night, or it would
be a warm night sleeping outside at the hotel. I told him
he would only be getting a blow job if I was also getting
sex.
He calls again before we leave the house, wanting to know
if we are on our way yet. Then he calls 2-3 times more
while we are on the road, wanting to know where we are.
Due to 5 o'clock traffic, a four car pile-up, and then
trying to avoid a toll road (which I learned can be a
blessing and a pain in the butt! -- did you know, they
charge you to not only get on the highway, but to get off
too? Then later on, they stop everyone and make them pay
again, a much higher toll, and then we are off the highway
just a 1/2 to 3/4 mile later!), it took us 4 hours to get
there. Anyway, we get to him, and he is just too excited
to have us there with him. He worked up until the time we
were close enough for him to come meet us, he meets us,
leads us to the hotel, and then goes to take a shower for
dinner while I make a beer run and grab milk for the baby
for the weekend.
When I return, his co-worker (who is staying in an
adjoining room at the hotel) and him are waiting for me to
return for us to all go out to dinner. I am struggling
with predisposed opinions based on what my husband has been
telling me about his co worker and his co worker's wife.
He has been griping about how this guy is a 'fat lazy
bastard' and spends more time tootling around the big city
when he goes to pick up parts and turn in their daily time
sheets and talking on the phone to his wife than he does
working. That there is so much that needs to be done, and
my husband can't do it all, b/c he's tied up on one
machine, and Clint's not around to do the other stuff. But
I guess they kissed and made up before we got there.
Anyway, we're at dinner, and I get to listen to how his
wife is having such a hard time, she's got both kids (ages
6 and 3), two dogs, a cat, and the house to deal with, and
she works. She may or may not make it out to see him,
because she has so much extra to deal with. I hear enough,
and I get a little pissed. Or I should have said just
aggravated.
I tell him, I'm sorry, but I had a death in the family this
week, have been doing the family thing all week (have
family in from Alabama, Oklahoma, and all over Texas), we
have 2 kids, a house, 2 dogs, and 2 cats, and I am still
here and I am here tonight (Friday), no less. I don't feel
sorry for her!! It takes some effort, yes. Am I tired?
Hell, yes! Am I a bit snippy? Well, yeah, I would think
so. But I am here, and where is she?
Anywho, so off we go. After dinner, when we are back in
the hotel room, we get the boys to bed (but not sleeping
yet), so we have a chance to talk. I tell him I hope I
didn't come across wrong, but I don't feel sorry for her.
He says not to worry, he listens to this day in and day
out. And that she is basically a bitch. Well, alrighty
then. The next morning, my oldest turns up sick (with
sinus troubles). He is struggling with one of those severe
sinus headaches, and I am trying not to over medicate him,
and Don's off to work again. Don's asked that if possible,
get his clothes washed, so he has clothes for the following
week. Sounds good to me, older one doesn't feel well,
younger one is battling a cough, and it looks like rain, so
the pool is out. We go wash his clothes, are drying them,
when he calls and asks where we are and what about lunch.
One of his coworkers (from where we are)' wife is coming to
fetch me and the boys to spend time with her at their
house, and we are at the washateria. Oh well, she's a
raging alcoholic anyway. But instead, Don comes to meet us
for lunch, bringing his local helper with him. We eat
together, then he has to run back to work. We go back to
the hotel, I call the nurse back at home and ask about
medicating my 7 year old. I medicate him and put him down
for a nap. During all of this, I've gotten a call from the
manager for not closing our door all the way, gone out to
unload the car, and my baby locked me out of the hotel
room, and then when I am finally done with the car and lock
the doors, I discover a little later that I have locked the
keys in the car (again). I just did the same thing on
Wednesday!
By this time, Clint's wife has arrived along with their 2
kids and 2 pound dog that has a broken leg from Clint
stepping on her. Don's right, she is a bitch. She just
strikes me as someone who has no use in getting to know me
or otherwise, but I am trying.
Don finally gets off of work, unlocks my car, tries to get
a hair cut (the place is closed), and then takes a nap
before we are to go to dinner at CJ and Marie's house.
Both our family as well as Clint's go over to their house,
and there are other employees and their families there as
well. Basically, it evolves into a low-key party. You
know the kind, everybody is drinking (adults, of course),
the kids are playing together, and it seems that most every
body is getting along. We had a marvelous dinner made for
us by one of the wives, it was chicken-fried steak (it's a
southern thing), gravy, green beans, salad, and mashed
potatoes. I got pretty drunk, you could say. I get into a
disagreement with CJ over how well he thinks he knows my
husband versus how well I know him, and I get to observe
the hot and cold of his and Marie's relationship when she
gets angry over stupid stuff. And, once again, I try to
strike up a conversation with Clint's wife, Catherine. She
has no desire to be social.
We eventually leave (Clint and Catherine left early -
before dinner - saying that Momma and the kids were tired,
yeah, bull shit) and go home. Turns out, I'm up most of
the night with the little one. His cough is getting worse,
and now he can't breathe through his nose. I had the
hangover headache through the night and drank bottled water
to fed it off, and then my husband had the headache the
next day. We were supposed to go to the beach on Sunday
along with Clint and Catherine and kids, and apparently CJ
and Marie were going also, but we backed out because of the
way the little one was feeling, I didn't want to push it.
He was napping when they left.
Besides, I was feeling selfish and didn't want to share my
time with my husband and family with others, not this
weekend anyway. Later, the four of us go to the pool until
the little one got tired and cranky. Brought him back to
the hotel room, and we eventually went to go get lunch.
While we are getting lunch, in pulls Clint and his family.
They have just come back from the beach (short trip,
obviously) and are getting food as well. After lunch, I
get the little one down for another nap and then I take the
older one to the pool. Also so I could figure out when I
was going to leave. I didn't want to, I wanted to spend as
much time with Don as I could. but I just couldn't risk
the dogs without care over night and also I couldn't see
driving back 2 1/2 to 4 hours (depending on traffic, route,
etc) and taking the older one directly to his first
swimming lesson of the year.
So, we pack up to leave. I load the car, and Don tells me
to load the boys into the car, and then we'll look at the
map for a different route home. I find this odd, but
follow his directive. Boys are in the car, and I go back
to the hotel room to find out how I'm going home, and he
tells me, close the door, turn off the light, now, come on,
get naked, let's have a quickie. I am sweating like crazy,
I've never heard him ask for a 'quickie' before, nor have I
known him to ever act like this. It reminds me of when I
was a newlywed or even when I was a teenager. The
exhiliration of being busted for doing something dirty.
Admittedly, I am laughing, or rather, giggling. We go at
it, as usual, it doesn't take long for either of us (not
that I am complaining), and then I go open the door again
and turn the lights back on. However, while we were
finishing, he tells me that he was going to 'fuck you in
the bathroom, but you were being a bitch'.
Okay, now it all makes sense. I was in the bathroom after
the second go round at the pool, and he comes asking if I
am doing 'number 2'. I tell him, yes, a little, why? He
says he's just asking. I'm confused, thinking that the
older one must need to use the bathroom and he is trying to
run me out for him. So I come out very directly after.
The truth of the matter was, he wanted to screw in the
bathroom so we got one more in before the boys and I left.
However, he tells me I probably wouldn't have liked it,
because he was going to screw me in the ass. Yeah, he's
probably right, he's of decent size (he's definitely not
small, and to me he's kinda big, but who am I comparing to,
ya know?), and we have tried that only once or twice
before, and once it brought me to tears. But I would have
tried again for him. In fact, it makes me horny to even
think that he was thinking this way!
This is the man that only lays on his back while we have
sex, I'm always on top, and always in the bed. Never any
place or anything exciting. But it works for us. So for
him to try something else, different location, different
position, etc., hey, I'm there!!!
I have also seen such love in him with his absence. I hear
the concern in his voice when he calls. He calls a lot
more often now than when he's home. He calls to check how
the swimming lessons went, he then calls later before bed
(that is the call I am used to, we did this when we dated,
we spoke every night before we went to bed, it may be 2 or
20 minutes, ya never knew, we just talked about whatever or
nothing just making sure we spoke each night). I have
never really had a doubt how much or that he loves me. It
just seems to be shown so much more when he travels.
I told him over the weekend that I would hope that he would
not be in a position or have occasion to classify me as a
bitch to his co workers or friends like his buddies do
their wives. Or to be one that every one thought of as a
bitch, as people think of Marie as an alcoholic (she is,
and is in complete denial) or Catherine as a snobbish
bitch. He says, hell no, you fit right in. That's the
thing, he tells me, you just fit in with all of us, you're
different. That made me so happy. To hear him say that he
is never ashamed to bring me around his buddies or have to
run around or hang his head in shame or even change in my
presence with them. He can be him and I can be me, and
nobody thinks badly of either of us. Yes, he's an asshole,
and I am an asshole's wife. But you know what? I am proud
to be this asshole's wife!


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