Last week I walked around in a little bit of a haze. The whole working 30 hours a week plus keeping a house that was used to having mom home is starting to wear thin. Dh left for a week as a pre-course to his upcoming 6 week training this spring. I planned and booked my flights next month for a necessary work trip.  Which means, for the first time ever I will be leaving Dh with the kids overnight.  For a week. Then I learned that my trip meant I will be away for the National Day of Honour for Afghanistan, and it started to weigh heavy that I won’t be around.  I’ve always been available, all the time, anytime, for my husband.  But this time I won’t be. And he doesn’t care.  He doesn’t see things like ‘Days of Honour’ as being for anyone other than those who are gone. And he isn’t at all concerned that I won’t be around for one. I care. I so care. School is wrapping up soon. Drama is in Running Club which means, well, so am I. Freckles is starting every day to remind me more and more that he is almost a teenager. Monster had just barely transitioned to being used to Dh away when Dh came home. So that I can then go away.  And then Dh will leave again. The whole time I thought: This week.  I got this week. I could do this week with my hands tied behind my back. About part way through the week I was a puddle.  I was a stress case with 3 jobs and too many…