He’s back + Thankfulness
Gotta get it in while I can
A few weeks ago, after my “call for questions” for my monthly FAQ videos, I noticed that someone asked something along the lines of “how much of your personal life do you decide to share on your blog?“
I’m particularly thankful on this holiday because my husband is home!
And the company Justin works for was kind enough to let him wrap up his time in Pennsylvania a little early to be home at Thanksgiving instead of mid-december. I did sort of want him present for the birth of our child, you know?
Anyway, I didn’t mention this on the blog or any social media channels for one main reason: safety. In all likelihood, the worst thing that would probably happen if someone found my address is that they would show up in my yard and demand a haircut.
But you never know if there are people reading your blog that would do worse things. There’s a fine line between living in fear and protecting yourself, but I think it’s pretty obvious not to broadcast when you are home alone for 5 months.
As a short answer to that question posed by a reader: I think of safety first, and decide from there. And I’d recommend you do the same if you are a blogger.
In general, his time away went pretty fast. We bought a house, so that prompted him to come home nearly every weekend in August and September. The longest “stint” of not seeing him was for 3 weeks in October.
One of the only times where I really had an emotional meltdown about him being gone was at 3:30a one morning.
I had gotten up, ripping with hunger, and went downstairs to eat a bowl of cereal. Then, I got back in bed, snuggling the Bump Nest and just about the time I was drifting off to sleep I heard a faint chirp come from another room in my house.
That is not the smoke alarm battery dying. That was a dream.
So I convinced myself it was, and kept on burrowing into the pillow.
And again, it chirped.
Awesome. Why, WHY does this only happen in the middle of the night?
So, I grab a 9v battery, a ladder, and began the challenge of figuring out which smoke alarm it was. I stood below each alarm and waited for the chirp. The cats were watching from a distance. On the third try, I located the chirper and climbed up to take the battery out. Simple, right?
So the dead battery slips out with ease, and I go to place the new battery in, but the door to the alarm won’t close with the new battery.
So it keeps chirping. A deafeningly loud chirp right in my ear like it’s antagonizing me.
And with each passing second, I can feel my body temperature increasing, and I’m muttering, “stupid husband isn’t here. this is stupid. stupid. . . .”
After a good 5 minutes, A REAL 5 MINUTES, the tears start and I’m literally yelling at the smoke alarm.
“SHUT. SHUT YOURSELF. WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM. SHUT.”
I thought about calling Justin just to cry to him about it and then I realized, “what the heck will he be able to do? He can’t exactly walk me through it–he has never officially lived in this house to know how this thing works.”
By the grace of God alone, I managed to press that battery in hard enough to jam the door closed.
I contained my excitement as I waited for time to pass without a chirp.
I stood, 33 weeks pregnant, on a ladder, tears streaming down my face, listening for another chirp.
And it never came. I could have kissed the thing.
I returned to bed, dried my eyes, and fell asleep.
To say I overreacted a little bit would be an understatement. But hey, I’m pregnant and emotional. I’m allowed one breakdown, right?
Anyway, once we were getting near the end, around the beginning of this month, I would just hope that I wouldn’t go into labor early. Thankfully I didn’t. And now that he’s here, that can pretty much happen when it wants to (although we are fairly certain about when he will arrive. . . more on that next week).
So I’m thankful. Thankful that he’s home and thankful that he won’t have to leave for 5-6 months again, probably ever.
I hope you have a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday!