For some reason, all day, it felt like a Monday. That has ways of messing with your head. I’m just saying.

And Brooks came home from work fairly early, which didn’t help matters because then it felt like a Friday.

I was all messed up, all day.

The Boy, however, was acting like it was a Wednesday, half way into the school week, crazy amount of energy spilling over, and a zeal for everything and anything.

And in spite of the mix up in my head (and the fact that I overslept this morning), we had a great day.

We studied hard, played harder, and spent loads of time together, the three of us.

I’m not used to Big Brooks coming home early frequently. It makes me want to drop everything and spend every second with him. He comes through the door and we’re still homeschooling, that’s how early he’s been coming home lately. And every fiber of my being, well, the irresponsible ones scream that we’ve covered enough for the day. The thing is that I know that at some point these “easy” days will lead to much busier, longer days. So perhaps it’s me wanting to cherish the moments I know will soon slip away. And perhaps it’s because after so many deployments I keep expecting him to come home and inform me that he’s got orders, yet again. It’s the proverbial waiting for the other shoe to drop bit. In a way that can’t be so bad. I for one don’t want to ever get to the point that I take Brooks for granted: his presence, his companionship. I think that when we take each other for granted it’s too easy to become unkind, or inpatient, or judgmental. I would hate that for us.