Well it is Sunday night and all of the tornados have made their way north of my house without cause for concern here. Some 90,000 homes are without power from Ann Arbor to Lake Orion. Here we just lost some planters and the kiddie pool. The girls are in bed and the TV is on, not that I am really watching it. My parents left this evening after a rushed dinner eaten standing at my counter (my Dad was eager to beat the storms). The toys in the family room are lightly scattered about and the heating pad my Mom was using is crumpled in the corner of the couch. A half eaten cake is calling my name on the counter, left over from my limp attempt at a birthday celebration. I am tired and yet do not want to go to bed. Why? Because it is empty upstairs in my bedroom. There is nobody else breathing next to me. There is no smell of Old Spice and soap. I made the mistake of washing the sheets right after Jim left and now the pillows smell like Tide. Going to bed does not signify the end of one day and the start of a new, fresh day with possibilities, but the continuation of a prolonged emptiness. I don't mean to whine, especially since Jim is really having an awful time on his trip. I am only trying to alleviate some of my loneliness by writing it out. 10 days gone by and at least 10 more to go, if not more. And I really miss scrapbooking time. I could do that during naps or after the girls go to bed, but it is better when I go to the nearby store and have other people there to talk to and ask opinions. I am restless and reluctant at the same time, wanting to get out with the kids and dreading leaving the house with them. I have no idea how to approach this, or which strategy will get me by until Jim gets home. Surely I will make it through, but I just wish it wasn't so lonely, especially at night. I would like to be able to go to bed when Emma and Mary do, and sleep until they get up. Instead, I drag around until I am falling ove tired and drag myself up to bed. Then I drag in the morning and scowl at the day. I spend a lot of time directly interacting and watching the girls on their level so that I don't feel alone. It is wonderful to get down on the floor and have the girls drop anything to come and join me. They laugh and climb on me and we wrestle around for a bit. Emma's hair smells like lavender soap and Mary still retains the precious baby smell that is so fleeting. Mary has long, curving eyelashes and likes to give kisses, and Emma likes to look straight into my eyes and ask me questions or point out 'boo-boos' on my face. Then she inevitable finds tickle bugs under my chin and gets a devilish grin. These are the things that I can get lost in. Well, one of them is awake and screaming, so I must run.