I get it. I finally get it. 
My husband has been gone for the past three days, and tonight he is finally home. Between the full-time job, the 6-year old boy, and the new puppy, I’ve been “single mommying” it for a couple of days here.
I know, nothing to complain about, and I’m certainly no storybook heroine. But I have to admit, a single day without my husband gives me the greatest appreciation for single moms. It also gives me a new, no renewed appreciation for my husbee. As he said on our first date (and I quote), “I’m all right.”
He is.
And strangely enough, everything seems all right now that he’s home. The crazy, separation anxiety dog, the overly energetic boy who misses his dad, his buddy, his pal, and the slightly over-confident rocker chick who thinks she doesn’t need a man, really, until she wants a man, are all sitting peacefully now, just hanging. No TV. No music. Not even much by way of conversation. Just contentedness because everything is right and everyone is where they’re supposed to be in our uncomplicated little world.
Oh, and by the way, babe, I want you to be home.
