It’s amazing, the habits we can create in nothing but a month and a half of being apart.

My husband is home again–hallelujah! Home at last, even if just for a few short weeks. It’s been five days since his return and I feel like we’re settling back in to our routines, but it hasn’t been without challenges. He is used to playing cards with the guys and riding around and sleeping in Humvees and I am used to eating mug cakes alone at 11pm while watching America’s Got Talent and catching up on the blogging I am too busy for during a day full of play dates and diapers and bills.

It goes without saying that we’ve been living very different lives for the past five weeks.

And now we’re together again, sharing life and a bathroom and a kitchen sink. There is once again dirt on the floors and phone alarms going off at 4:30am and PT gear strewn all over the house. Alas–that’s how it goes when you’re married to a military man. There is no escaping the dirt or piles of green on greens, just as there is no escaping having to give haircuts at 11:30pm on Sunday night because he forgot to get it done earlier.

It’s an adjustment, and it’s not to much having to get used to sharing a bed and food and disagreeing on what temperature that air conditioning should be set at so much as it is having to get used to not being in control anymore. None of the physical stuff was hard–I got used to the sink filling up with dishes in half a second again very quickly and no longer being able to spread out in our bed feels normal. The emotional stuff is what will get you, friends.

Ah, control–an idol I’ve had in my life for years. God uses my husband regularly to teach me that I am not in control of anything, really, but when it’s just me and a little person who I feed and bathe and tickle and put to sleep and decide where he plays and when he’s allowed to go outside and what he’s going to wear, I can forget that I’m not in control. I’ve always felt that parenting alone is slightly easier because there’s no debates–I do everything from making decisions to changing diapers to preparing food. Of course I make my decisions based off how my husband wants to raise our son too, but it feels simpler when it’s just me.

Just me and a tiny human who I am entirely in charge of.

And then my husband came back, and he is a large human with strong opinions and a need to be needed who is perfectly capable of making his own decisions and being independent, and I’m not used to sharing the house with another one of those. He’s the head of the household and while he makes all his decisions in love and respects me in how he leads, he is still in control. Beyond his control is God’s control. And then there’s me–in charge of taking care of matters of the household, in charge of a business and mothering a child–but definitely not in control.

Gosh I haven’t wanted to relinquish control. When it was just me, the house was so clean. There was no dirt and no papers left on the counters and next to no laundry, but there was also no husband. It was quite sad. Now my husband is back and I am loving it but I find myself constantly needing the reminder that he is the head of the household and my son can’t take 100% of my attention like he does when it’s just the two of us.

I have definitely found myself having to be intentional about sharing myself and my home and my life with my other half. It’s not coming quite as naturally as I expected, readjusting to being a married woman again. Of course, I was married even when my husband was gone, but besides making all my decisions with the intent to love and honor him, I could basically do as I wanted. No longer is that the case.

I’ll be honest, the selfish part of me is kind of bummed because let’s be real, doing whatever you want whenever you want is pretty great, but ultimately I know I would rather have my husband around any day. He won’t be around for many more days and when he leaves about 3% of me will celebrate being able to do what I want again, but the other 97% knows that real freedom is living my life with Jesus and my baby and my best friend who also happens to be the dude I’m married to.

The struggles that came with readjusting this time around weren’t what I expected. It wasn’t a big challenge fitting my husband into my son’s new routine which has changed immensely over the last month and a half since he turned one–and after an hour that awkwardness disappeared. It was the control issue that caught me off guard. This won’t be every wife’s experience when her husband returns after a period away, but it was mine, and next time we say goodbye and then hello again I’ll be prepared.

I would choose being a wife over a somewhat-single person any day. Sure, it’s been a challenge, but baby–I would readjust for you any day.

And that, my friends, is post-training romance at it’s finest.