This ether needs airing

Usually the first week of pseudo-single-parenthood goes fairly well. I feel strangely strong. Facing the inevitable with a stiff upper lip. Empowered. All decisions are mine. "What are we having for dinner?" is no longer a consensus or hot-potato question. Head down. Schedule planned. Executed. 

The second week of his business trips are a different story. Someone always gets sick. Or has an accident. Or goes to the ER. Or all three. The empowered feeling unravels leaving me gasping for air, crazy-eyed, and short-tempered. 

But, the first day of decided self-loathing varies irrespective of the week. This trip, it is 4 days in. Following a holiday full of parental and employee guilt (get to work late anyway and miss school parade?), late night with lots of sugar and excitement, I let the kids oversleep and the new day's start is rushed. Tempers flair (mine), directions aren't followed (them), and tears follow (them). Comforting while rushing just doesn't work out well even though I try it frequently. 

And then the commute, full of quiet time to reflect on the big picture: Failing my kids. Rarely home for them. Crap employee. Least requested due to perception and truth of "reduced schedule" ostensibly bargained benefit for work-life balance but does neither. Am hanging on raggedy edge of sanity and compentcy as it is and this shows most clearly when the load-sharing prop is removed. 

I went for a walk at lunch to clear my head. 

So, here are my thoughts airing in the ether. Will writing them bring me a measure of peace? Direction? Clarity?

Thoughts to follow ...