Well, Dan's been gone again, and he leaves in two weeks for two weeks to Japan. I spent the last two days crying about it. He comes home in an hour or so, so I guess I'm over it by now. Every time he goes, I find it harder and harder to deal with. I see all these graceful copers all around me (not actually around me, since I have only a few local friends, but, you know old friends on the internet), and I am just not equipped with any of that. I feel this extreme fatigue over the whole thing. I never thought I'd marry and then be without my husband for such consistent chunks of time. And in a place where I have nothing, and, during the day, no one. I hate everything about him being gone, the thrumming aloneness, the propensity of Joash and/or I to get sick, most likely due to his unfortunate habit of truncating nighttime sleep by several hours for at least the first week of his father's absence, the sheer physical and emotional effort of caring for a toddler for days on end without reprieve. I know I am not meant to raise a child alone. Who is? I do not have whatever it takes to be a single parent in a foreign country without even a hint of extended familial support (beyond Skype). I feel like knowing that should somehow matter enough that I won't have to keep facing these times of isolation Anyhow, it doesn't. And I'm unhappy over it.
But, hey, at least I have a couple pictures to post.
Dance parties have commenced, and this one found Joash playing along on his upside down trumpet. He is also wearing his dad's scarf because he had no clothes on, and it was a little chilly.
He's at such a wiggly age, and I can't find a shutter speed fast enough to eliminate the haze of blur that envelops him.
He has become very interested in my chores. How to keep this interest up into his own choredom is the trick.
And here is his enthusiasm at helping me take pictures of the mirrored cable leggings I knit him in an effort to maintain his reign of pantslessness. Maybe if I was a curious monkey he'd care more.
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