This weekend, something amazing happened (and I'm not just talking about The Hunger Games, which was awesome, and was a pleasant surprise in a world where books turned movies are usually a huge disappointment). On Saturday, I woke up to birds chirping in the warm morning sunshine and three dogs who were eager to cuddle as soon as they heard me stirring. I looked over to my left and saw JD petting Harrier next to me. That's when it hit me- I rarely wake up with my husband. Sometimes I wake up and he's there, sound asleep after a long night shift, but we almost never wake up together.
In an eight week period, JD works four weeks of night shift and four weeks of day shift, so half of the time we're on completely different sleep schedules. During his four weeks of day shift, he works two of those weekends, so he's up and out of the house well before I get up. During the two day shift weekends he's not working, he usually spends one of those weekends transitioning to a night schedule, meaning he stays up late and sleeps in much later than me. That leaves one weekend. One weekend every other month where we have the opportunity to wake up together.
It's a small thing, I know. Trivial in the wide range of things other people might worry about in their marriages. Still, it's one of those things you never really think about. One of those things you might otherwise take for granted. A moment of quiet. A moment of just us. A moment without cell phones and iPads and to do lists and police radios.
We laid there, listened to the birds, and cuddled with the dogs for a few minutes till Sadie got impatient and started jumping all over everyone. The moment was over, and we went on with our day.
I am thankful for those moments, and I'm thankful to have someone I want to spend them with. In a way, I'm also thankful that those moments are rare, because it makes me appreciate them more.