“You’re glowing,” my friend Gina recently told me. “I wonder why. It must be because the hubby is home.”
I smiled brightly at her and said, “Actually, I think what you’re seeing is what’s left of my sanity seeping out of my pores.”
I seriously considered writing a nice, sunshine and roses column about how wonderful it is having my husband home — how he bought me a dozen white roses, which he knows to be my favorite, for no reason whatsoever; how he has already fixed the leak in the tire of our Jeep and had the oil changed; how wonderful it feels when I feel a pair of arms slip around my waist while I’m doing the laundry.
Then I decided that while all of that is true, it would be only half the story.
My husband likes to go to bed before 10 p.m. Previously, I fell asleep whenever and wherever I finally crashed. He likes to spend his free time organizing anything and everything — from our financial records to the contents of our refrigerator. Previously, I liked to spend my free time curled up on the sofa reading a book or soaking in a bubble bath. He likes to go to the gym every day. My old routine included always intending to go to the gym, but only making it about half of the time.
Needless to say, things are changing in the McKenna household, and that means much more than the extra two pair of shoes in the coat closet. Those changes are not easy. As a matter of fact, I sometimes feel like if he moves that stack of important papers from its designated spot on the desk one more time, I’m going to explode.
Still, there are the good changes that far outweigh the bad. Even at our worst, most uncomfortable, challenging, unsynchronized moments, I’d never consider sending him away. Having my husband back is hard, but it’s so easy to forget that when, at the end of the day—even if that day ends as early as 10 p.m.—I’m not sleeping alone. That is so, so worth working through those little changes.