Stephen had an emergency at work this weekend and has spent a lot of time there fixing things. Not the best birthday weekend he's ever had, I'm sure.
He spent most of the day in the office on Saturday and then went in at 8:30 am yesterday morning. I'm writing this at 7:45am Monday morning & he just called to say there is no end in sight.
I can't even imagine how tired he is, and how physically & mentally drained he must be. He thrives on problem solving & is a champ when it comes to addressing a crisis. But, there's got to be a point when he'll just be exhausted.
My only complaint is that when Stephen isn't home at night I have a tough time sleeping too. It's against every independent, strong, feminist woman tendency in my body to be so dependent on him to sleep, but it's just a fact.
When he's not here, I hear noises. I get nervous. I just can't seem to relax and fall asleep. And, while I can never hear Berkley's cries at night when Stephen's home, when he's gone I hear every. single. sound.
So, while my sympathies certainly lie with my hardworking husband, I'm pretty tired myself this morning since I got about 5 hours of sleep total last night. But I can't really complain because it's still 5 more hours of sleep than Stephen got!