Back home

Returning home from single traveling, for me, is always a huge jolt like wrapping your hand around a live wire. It's always awkward as we've gotten into a routine, him without me and me without him, and there is that readjust period as we work to get back into sync. It takes awhile for him to catch me up on the happenings at home and even longer for me to get into the swing of normalcy.

I always have to return my home to my home, and because that is better done alone, and because I came home in the evening, I had to wait until the next morning to right things. Being on a different schedule, I was out of sorts and didn't sleep well after getting back. Business travelers often talk about how great it is to get back to their beds, and while I was thrilled to have my own pillow under my head, my body was twitchy and hot and sleep eluded me. I missed my SIL and our late evening talks. Everything just felt off.

I told myself I would give myself the next day to restore order. While the house looked the same, despite the new roof, it was dirty and things were out of place, and I eagerly jumped in with both feet unpacking and cleaning; closets, rooms, sheets, and even the dog. By the time evening rolled around, I was feeling relaxed and back. The dog had easily slipped back into our routine, thrilled that he wasn't going to spend the day alone, happy that he could once again chase the vacuum cleaner which hadn't made an appearance while I was gone. Daughter #2 had called to welcome me home and discuss her upcoming trip home, putting in her meal order and whining about how long I was gone.

When we returned from our walk at the same time as the husband pulling into the driveway, he too was relaxed, happy to be coming home to someone in the house. Discovering a clean, not so needy dog, a clean bedroom, and an uncluttered kitchen with a homemade dinner waiting, he felt the shift too.

Mama was home and all was finally right with the world. 

At least, that's how I view it.