When Daddy's Away, The Children Will Drive You Insane

I would like to begin this post with a shout-out to all of the single parents and stay-at-home parents out there.  I could never, ever do either of those things.
I love my children very much but Brian has been out of town for a few days (not coming back for a few more) and Mommy's gonna lose it soon. Right now, Lucy is on my foot saying, "I want some mimma cereal.  Cereal mimmas.  Ceral mimmas."  I don't know what that is  but I guarantee it is not one of the 47 types of cereal we have available. Imma is sitting on the floor using the iPod that is plugged into the wall. Right now she is just humming but every few minutes she will literally let out an earsplitting scream for no apparent reason.  NO APPARENT REASON. I say, "Stop screaming!" about 85 times a day. There's never a reason to scream.  Lucy is jumping on the bed, Imma is tackling the dog.  Where, oh where, is Daddy?
Why is it that, if I know that Brian will be home at 6:15, I can only survive until 6:15 but if I know he won't be home at all, I some how make it until 8:30 (blessed 8:30!) and bedtime? On days like today, I don't even notice 6:15. It is inconsequential. But 8:30 is magical!
And it's not that I don't love my children.  I absolutely do!  I can't imagine my life without them.  But I am not designed to spend all day with them--together. One on one, sure I can do that.  Just Imma?  No problem!  Lucy alone?  Got it!  Put them together in the same room with two dogs and a Christmas-song-playing-carousel that I am not allowed to turn off--I'm done after about 4 hours. And I'm proud of myself for being able to make it 4 hours.
And by done, I mean mentally and physically exhausted--not ready to abandon them and run into the woods behind my house (it's hot out there!) or get in my car and drive away (where would I go?) or lock them in the closet (they'd just yell louder). But it is a lot harder to be patient in hours 5 through 14 then it is in the first 4. (Boy, 14 hours sounds like a long time!)
Imma is using a children's golf club as a whip for her ride along toy and Lucy is asking me where her movie went.  What? What movie?  Why am I certain I will see the imprint of a golf club on Lucy's face soon?
My children are fairly well-behaved.  They don't break things or purposely trash the house.  They don't hit each other much and they aren't violent.  They like to scream.  They like to ignore me when I tell them not to scream.  and they like to argue.  A lot. Sometimes they argue over nothing.  Literally. The conversation starts with, "No it's not."  Followed by, "Yes it is."  What?  What are you talking about? No one knows. . . . And it doesn't matter because the argument would continue.
I am blessed to have two beautiful, intelligent, loving children.  And I am blessed to have time during the year to spend with them.  And I am blessed to have a job where I can go spend time with other people's children because I can handle them by the hundreds. But I always miss my children when I am away from them.  Just like childbirth, I forget about the pain and screams of nonsensical arguments and random dog-tackling.
When my husband returns from out-of-town trips, he no longer asks how the house got to be such a mess.  He is just happy to see that I am not completely bald and that the dogs have all of their legs.  Oh, Friday, where are you??