M got home from his trip last night, and happy as I was to see him, I found myself kind of out of sorts as well. My reaction did not sit well with me, and it took me quite some time to analyze what was wrong. I think part of it is hormones; they’ve been kind of weird ever since getting that IUD put in, and the last week I’ve been moodier than normal, reminiscent of PMS.
The main reason I reacted weird, though, is that part of me wasn’t quite ready for him to get home yet. Don’t get me wrong–I’ve been anxiously awaiting his return all week long. But my five years of living as a single haven’t quite been squelched by my nearly three years of marriage. There’s something quite freeing in being able to make my own choices about meals, evening activities, bedtimes, and what to watch on TV, without having to consider someone else’s preferences. I realized last night that I truly did enjoy that aspect of his absence for the week.
I’m glad he’s home, though. I really missed having him around, being able to randomly chat with him about stupid things whenever throughout the day (not like we do that when he’s at work…). I missed his help with the boys. I missed his comforting presence here, even if all he’s doing is sleeping. I miss all the stuff I missed when I was single.
The funniest part is that things are back to “normal” today, yet so far they seem no different from yesterday. I woke up to an empty bed to take care of both boys alone like I’ve done all week. And the way I did things all week were barely different from any other normal day, with M around and helping me make the day-to-day decisions. I guess that’s a good sign that we work well together, when I live my life pretty much the same with him as I would without him. He fits perfectly into my life instead of changing it.