I'm a routine person

I never really knew this about myself until the other night I was mid melt down with a 2 year old and realized he is just like me.

Michael is sick and that rocks my whole world. We have a routine that we do everyday. It's small things but it is what keeps me sane.
Michael gets home about an hour to two hours before we do. I always pick up G and he does a few things around the house. On Tuesday he came right home and went to bed only waking up to eat.
So after dinner he went up to bed. He needed sleep in the worst way I know that but inside I was freaking out.

Michael always gives Grayson his bath when he is home and I was not mentally prepared to be doing that last night. Plus bath time is when I pack our lunches and get everything around for the next day so I knew I was in for a long night. Dishes needed to get done before I could pack lunches and the house was a disaster.

I never realized how much my husband does before we even get home every night. He fills the Keurig, he does dishes, he picks up the tornado that I left from the morning, he starts dinner, he brushes Riley, he showers, and he empties all the garbage's.

Not having any of that done was like oh my gosh I'm in a downward spiral. But Grayson and I survived. But even yesterday we were still adjusting. I didn't get to shower until 10:30 on Tuesday night which is almost 2 hours past my normal shower time. I was exhausted yesterday. Michael is on the mend. Thank goodness because two days of that would have killed me.

This opened my eyes. Michael does so much and I don't thank him enough. I'm not cut out to be a single parent. I know that if I had to I would adjust but goodness me it's not for the faint of heart. Kids sense any thing different and then turn into hyena's. Grayson knew it was just me and he acted like a crazy person.

I like my little routine and I'm so super thankful for my husband who is a rock star. I'm happy he's better because I need him to do this life with. He is truly my partner in every sense of the word.

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