a fifo wife {fifo life: fifo life: weekends over and paying for milk}

www.etsy.com/shop/KDDLE Amanda Vogelaar

Oh he goes back to work…that’s sad he said. I looked at him as I paid for the milk feeling ridiculous that I was paying for $2.40 with an Eftpos card but the reality is I never carry cash any more. Ever. No I said smiling head down not wanting to make eye contact. In my head as he said this I thought – I’m looking forward to husband going back to work this month. I’m ready. It had been a great month off and truth is husband is looking forward to going back also.

He looked at me surprised trying to determine if I was joking; no really you must be sad about that, it’s a month that he is away isn’t it- that’s a long time? Ah yeah it is a month and no I said and then without thinking followed that up with the thought in my head no I’m looking forward to him going back to work it’s been a month so its time.

Damn it. It was right there I he may have labelled me cold and heartless. Money grabbing. The type of fifo wife who pushes her husband out the door. Or he could have thought wow amazing either way I don’t care and either way it has been a month. Although perhaps it was the smile on my face that confused him as I said this but after fourteen years I find it all so amusing. Perhaps I should look forlorned and miserable? Perhaps that indicates better the love I have for my husband; instead of being strong and capable for him and our family. This month ‘away’ is what our terms of employment deem and it’s what the contract stated when we started this FIFO gig. We knew it was month ‘away’ as much as we knew it was a month ‘at home’. We decided this together.

I waited for the transaction to process. Feeling torn and awkward with my admission and I debated with myself did I want to justify my ‘attitude’ but honestly couldn’t be bothered because often the conversation often shifts to the kids and I as good as mood as I was in I didn’t want to go there but since I am retelling the story I will say it to you anyway. I have been doing this a long time as has my husband. My husband going to work is no different to this man standing behind the shop counter going to work. There are days when I miss him just as there would be days when I imagine this man’s wife would when she is at home struggling with her children waiting for 6pm to tick around so she can thrust the kids into his arms and run out to the kitchen pour a wine and consume it in a back corner some where before resuming her duties in the kitchen.

I looked at him standing behind the counter this man’s working life consists of five and half days a week with a weekend of one and half days. My husband’s working life is four weeks with a four week weekend. Then just like this man when my husband ‘weekend’ is over he must go back to work and just like this man’s wife I am sometimes am ready for it and sometimes I am not. This month I am ready however I would be lying if I didn’t tell you that I said I out loud wish your father was here after I had to deal with B3’s tantrum just four hours after he left for work but you handle it and get on with it. I after all wouldn’t call him home if he was just down the road being a plumber.

The transaction over he looked at me again you really don’t mind he said as he handed my receipt.

No I don’t. I said. My weekend as is my husband’s is over it’s a matter of getting back to work…how else would one pay for milk.

Xx Deb

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