Wife. Synonyms: helpmate, helpmeet, lady, little woman, madam, missus (or missis), Mrs., old lady, wifey, woman. According to Mirriam-Webster.

So, I've been thinking about polygamy lately. Which makes me feel totally guilty.

Not in the, wow, that would make up for the threesomes I never had in college! kind of way. Or because my wifely demands are such that I feel they should be shared.

No.

It is mainly because I would like to have a wife to exploit. There. I said it. Isn't that awful? She'd be some very nice person who would marry us because she thought we were very nice people, or for whatever reason it is that you get married.

I mean, I know why I got married. And a big part of it was because he is, in fact, a very nice person. And he is a terrific husband and a wonderful father. But he is not a wife.

I want a wife.

Actually, exploit is strong. I want a wife to be home when I can't. I want a wife to make dinner because I hate to, although I don't mind cleaning up. I want a wife for company, and to move the car or to stay home with the kids while I run out to get some groceries or whatever.

I don't need a trophy wife. Particularly because trophy wives, by definition, aren't helpful, right? Just beautiful? No. Definitely not a trophy.

I would like someone cool to  hang out with. Who maybe had similar taste in fiction, so we could talk about.

And you know, I regularly wonder how, how HOW do Mormons manage all those children with no alcohol or caffeine?

Here I should note that I do realize that the polygamous Mormons are in the minority. Even though Big Love made it seem like they were everywhere. Selmer! Selmer! I miss Big Love. I do.

Anyway.

I have, you see, been a single parent for a couple days. Which is not very long in the parenting scheme of life. But India, dollop of delight that she is, feels compelled to scream like her fingernails are being ripped out somewhere between 1:00 and 3:00 am. Every. Goddamn. Night.

And Jordan, my Jordan, who used to sleep until 8 am, now wakes up at 5:45. Because there is so much fun to be had! We need to start having it as early as possible!

The good thing is that Nick sleeps on the side near the door, and also, he's the more fun parent. And so when Mr. Lookin'-fer-Fun arrives and sticks his face one inch from that of one of the sleeping parents, it is not mine.

Nick describes it as a rather disconcerting way to wake up. Eyeball to eyeball.

Jordan woke me up this morning, however, with cars in hand and a plaintive, "Mommy! Where is Daddy? I can't find Daddy anywhere!"

(Uh...Delaware?)

And on top of all of this, Betty gallivanted off to France last week with a childhood friend, one of her North Dakota ladies. They signed up for a week-long tour of Provence, and then booked another week to just hang out.

How delightful does that sound? I want to gallivant off to there!

What I've realized is that while Nick gets home after the kids are in bed, I'm so used to not being alone. My mom and I typically get the kids fed and I get them bathed and then we divide them up for bed.

Even when we don't...I'm not alone. I like not being the only adult at home.

Now, of course I was and am all excited for her to have two weeks in France. Excited and oh, yay, hope she is having so much fun and she should totally relax and come back next week at her leisure and also all, PLEASE COME BACK ASAP I MISS YOU THESE CHILDREN ARE KILLING ME I NEED MY MAMA.

I haven't said that to her, of course. Mainly because we've had no contact. I figure she is having so much fun she does not have time to check in.

And also, she firmly believes that her email lives on her home computer.