It’s an ordinary life. Maybe not to someone outside the oilfield, but to us it’s normal. Regular. Uneventful. What some people think is strange, unusual, or interesting is just our everyday life. Our everyday, ordinary, regular, mundane life is two or more weeks with my Hot Oil Man gone, and then a week or two with him home. We make plans that include him when he’s here, and keep on trucking when he’s not. We’re used to both. We’re used to life with dad, and life without dad. That’s just normal. It’s our life.
My HOM doesn’t work a 9-to-5 job. He’s not home every night and every weekend. He’s not home for every family dinner and every bedtime. He misses parent teacher conferences and basketball games. But we’re used to it. When he is here, he is home for days and weeks at a time – breakfasts, lunches, dinners, baths, bedtimes, and everything in between. That’s our “norm”. We may not get him ALL of the time, but when he is here he gets to be a part of everything. We may not have him here for every dinner, but when he is home he’s shuttling kids to volleyball practice, washing laundry, cleaning bathrooms, playing cops and robbers, and packing school lunches. I don’t think 9-to-5 dads get to do all those things.
Holidays are a toss up. Sometimes he’s gone at work, and sometimes he’s home. He’s missed birthdays and Christmases, and other times he’s been home for two weeks straight right through Christmas. But it’s all normal to us. We celebrate when he’s home whether it’s the “right” day or not. The uncertainty is our normal. The random schedule is ordinary to us. We’re used to celebrating Thanksgiving on a Monday if need be.
We function fine when my Hot Oil Man is at work. Things may not be quite as pleasant when he’s away from us, but they’re not horrible either…they’re just normal. Average. I get by. I do what needs to be done, like any typical mom on any typical day. Our days are very routine. Then he comes home!! And it’s…still normal. A good kind of normal. We’re used to having dad gone, and we’re used to having dad home. He’s not a stranger. He fits in. He has his place, and we continue on with our everyday, regular activities. That’s our ordinary life. Our schedule is not a big deal. I don’t feel sorry for myself when he’s gone. I don’t think we’re special. We’re just living. Day after day. Regular day after regular day. We have good times and bad times while he’s gone, and we have good times and bad times while he’s here.
We are an ordinary oilfield family, and this is our ordinary life.