A few times a week, Stephen and I sit around in the office with our Google Calendars, trying to coordinate work and days off and who’s watching Liz when; when we can run errands, who’s hanging out with friends, and who needs the car more; and whether we get to spend any time together (usually no).
This week’s drama is an overtime shift for me, and a business trip to to the mountains for him. Both of those events will happen on Tuesday, so Liz is going to Grandma and Grandpa’s.
Stephen told Grandma and Grandpa that he’d be dropping Liz off on Monday so he could get some extra work done. He has to go to the airport and fix some stuff there, then to the mall to fix even more stuff.
He said, “I don’t know whether you’d have any particular desire to tag along with me on all my errands, but…”
“Yeah, I’ll come along!”
We’re going to hang out and do all his work stuff. How silly is that? I’m going to sit around and watch him fix lockers just so we can hang out. He misses me, I miss him, I’m stoked to ride around in the car with him for a few hours.
I think this is what could be described as a ‘rough patch’…one of those things that we’ll look back on in a few years and say, “Hey, remember when Liz was a baby and the only time we could spend with each other was when we were running errands? I mean, we had a few dates, but not nearly as many as we have now…” and then we will snuggle and kiss and be happy and settle in for at least 12 hours of good solid sleep. That’s the ideal outcome, anyway.
I need a day shift.