In just one week...Jason will be home. And I won't have to look forward to NOT looking forward to him heading back to Iraq.
Come to think about it, in just one week...
I alone won't have to bandage up boo-boos and wipe away tears when the kids fall and get hurt. And I alone won't fail at mending broken hearts when friends hurt the kids' feelings.
There will be a real cook in the house. One who makes meals. That actually taste good.
Someone else will be here to carry the never-ending mountains of laundry down two flights of stairs to the basement.
I won't have to eat lunch alone in a restaurant reading a newspaper.
I won't have to walk through the house with the cell phone hoping for great reception in a room that won't dump our call into the black hole abyss of dropped calls. Or hold my free hand over one ear while squishing the cell phone up to my other ear as tightly as possible so I can hear him better. Because even a call that I can barely hear him is better than no call at all.
I'll be able to get mad at someone else, other than the kids, for using up all the hot water just before my shower. Or for using my towel. Or for forgetting to put a new roll of toilet paper in the bathroom on the dispenser.
We'll watch the kids as they catch fireflies with the sun drifting off into the horizon. We'll both hear the baby as he tries to say new words and watch as he climbs into things he has no business climbing into.
We'll stay up late and talk about our dreams and plans. And listen to the kids giggling upstairs as they pretend to fall asleep.
I won't go to sleep every night feeling all alone in a house full of sleeping children.
We'll be a family again. All together, as we should be. What a journey we've made to get back to exactly where we belong.
|We'll both get to watch this little guy get into trouble.|