The Whirlwind

And with that the Whirlwind had gone.

Living life with a travelling husband is taking some time in adjustment. A new sales role, in a territory that covers all of New South Wales and ACT, has taken Mr D away from the family home for longer than he has ever been before. Coupled with that, a Sydney house that needed work before advertising on the rental market and you have a family with the shadow of Mr D that occasionally appears on small backlit screens before bedtime.

Let me clarify, that this arrangement doesn't please him, in fact, I think he misses his family more than I do when I'm away (or maybe I'm just not away often enough to miss them) and always pines for the day when he can be at home and enjoy spending time with us.

So hence the aforementioned 'adjustment'. We both are treading new ground in this arrangement and having to change our ways slightly to accommodate the new normal. Rather than family time at the end of each day, all our family time has to happen during the days that Dad is home, which is mostly weekends.

Let me give you a little background on the dynamics. I'm not a control freak. Housework is there to be done if it really needs doing, and if it can wait till tomorrow then all the better. There are a million things that are mentally captivating for me than putting random things in their places (again, for the fortieth time that week) and cleaning bench tops. I don't mind cooking (baking is probably my favourite task in the kitchen) but please don't ask me to decide what to make for dinner. Again. Cheese toasties sound good, don't they?

My previous job of Office Assistant in a busy school office was the perfect excuse for procrastinating on the things that needed doing at home. I did the bare necessities, but sorting that overloaded shelf and vacuuming the blinds didn't emerge on my 'must do this weekend' list. Usually that list comprised of 'buy food, wash uniforms and tumble dry' - the last item was to avoid having to add 'ironing' to the list. I wiped over the bathroom mirror when we had trouble seeing our reflection but I confess I couldn't tell you the last time I washed the floor. To be honest, (and I'm sure I'm not alone, though I need help if I am) work was far more exciting than keeping the house.

Having said all that, my new found employment of 'Project Manager - Move House', as it says on my LinkedIn profile, has left me with no other option. This is my role now, to look after the family and keep order in our rented house; it's an amazingly huge role when done properly! And I have to say, despite a reticence in having to say to my mother that she was right, there is a great sense of satisfaction in a tidy house. I have battled my prejudice that house work is dull and should be avoided at all costs, and am getting it done with contentment in the order it leaves.

That is, until Mr D arrives home.

I've seen houses much tidier than mine, but just before he walks through the door it's pretty good. Floors vaccumed. Clean sheets, space (not ever seen at our last tiny cottage) and dust-free surfaces (also not seen before). My house is becoming a home, much to my own surprise.

It lasts for a nanosecond. Not just because of the paraphernalia that accompanies the returning traveller, but my lack of care of the house when he arrives. It becomes a much distant second...actually, maybe tenth... in line of priorities. Not only distracted myself by having the love of my love at home, the kids are also distracted from their usual jobs in the presence of 'the fun time guy' and I'm neglectful in my observance of missed duties. One of the adoring qualities of my husband, is his sense of fun and how when he's home the mood is suddenly so much lighter. There is rarely a moment passed without a joke, funny face or laughing child being thrust into the air. Housework? Pfft, who'd want to do that?

Our family dynamics have changed. No longer are there are few moments of family time each day with order in between; the days when Dad is home become a frenzy of conversation, updates, questions and laughter. The usual order of each day (meals, homework, bedtime routine) that has been put in place to manage in his absence, is tossed aside like a teenager's washing (I was going to add 'dirty', but then I realised that for teenagers, both dirty and clean end up in the same place).

Now I sit, trying to cast a blind eye on the chaos behind me, patiently waiting for attention. Trails of textas and unfinished homework, crumpled shirts needing ironing, a kitchen bench displaying evidence of the past two days' culinary enjoyment. I will get to it eventually, but for now I indulge in the memory. For as much as it pains me to constantly say goodbye to my love, we have had an amazing two days with our family together again. And, in having the best of both worlds, I know that in his absence I will have a house that will stay in order (more or less), as much as I desire.

Till the next Whirlwind.