Dear David,
It’s been nine days since you left, and I know I was supposed to write every day, but, well, things sort of fell completely to pieces. It’s been rough, I can’t lie. Clara has gone from being a sweet baby to transforming in the course of an afternoon into a toddler – a toddler who screams in a shrill tone usually reserved for dog whistles and refuses to be put down under any circumstances. Oh, and has also decided to nurse whenever she can. So that’s fun.
At first I thought maybe we’d just unfortunately hit a tantrum stage, and then I debated whether her sixth tooth that’s been coming in for days now was just really bothering her, but more and more I think she’s just missing you, and wants everything normal again.
It’s getting harder and harder. I know that military wives do this *all the time* and people are without their spouses all over the place, but it doesn’t lessen my difficulty, knowing this, it just makes me feel crummy for feeling the way I do – so I don’t want to think about it. It’s hard, it just is. Everything takes so much more time, everything takes So. Much. More. Energy. Oh my word.
And then to discover that you are going to be gone until likely Sunday evening, instead of being home on Saturday as we’d assumed? It is breaking me, it really really is.
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