Routines

My nightly routine has changed. It’s no longer just taking off the makeup, brushing out my hair, brushing my teeth and finding a tshirt to sleep in. Don’t get me wrong, I still do all those things, but the routine has grown a little.

While he watches tv, or plays his favorite video game, I am making sure his patches are on, his pt clothes are folded, his socks are where he can find them, his boots are by the door. There’s a freshly washed set of ACUs hanging on the back of my bedroom door as I type, ready for him to pull on in the morning.

I’m groggy when he leaves, blinking the haze of sleep when he is tugging on clothes, hiding from the light he turns on, or burrowing under the pillow to get away from the sunlight that gets brighter and brighter. So doing this the night before makes it easier on me, there is no early morning fumbling for wallet, id, keys, id tags, everything is there, ready for him to pull on.

The general consensus, among my friends and family, is that I’m spoiling him. When kids come, and I’m tired and running on empty, this won’t be fun anymore, and I shouldn't get him used to this. And I am sure that what they say is true, when my house is full of kids, and I have a million and one things to do, that making sure he has clothes for the day ahead will not be my priority. He will probably be unceremoniously told to find his clothes, because I’m busy.

So while he is mine, solely mine, I am doing it. I am not forced to share him with anyone; I can easily turn our cell phones off, turn the tv off, and lay outside, watching the stars with him. There is no one demanding his evenings, his mornings, the middle of the night. So in these first few weeks, I will do it.

And also… this is my way of taking care of him. I cannot force him to get more sleep, eat better, stop smoking, or not drink that extra beer at dinner. Begging and pleading for him to get a boring desk job, while appealing, will get me nowhere, he won’t listen. The time when I am forced to let him go, to send him off to do his job, is rapidly approaching, and while I have him, I will do my level best to take care of him.

There will come a day when I will wish desperately for a moment to bury my face in a freshly washed shirt, to peel patches off a dirty ACU jacket, to fold socks and tshirts. So for now, the routine is less about me, and whether or not I got that last spot of mascara off, and more about him. Yes, I'm spoiling him rotten. I'm ok with that.

~Jennifer