P.K. has been gone off and on since early May. He came home last night after three weeks away only to pack up and leave today for four more days. What a tease. I don't think I have ever cried when he has left before. Today I did. I was standing in the driveway thinking about crying. He was in his car, ready to drive away. He stopped and got out to give me one more kiss good-bye. I couldn't say anything because I was trying not to cry. I'm not sure where the emotions came from. I have told him bye before. Too many times to count, in fact. I've even seen him off more than once while pregnant and very hormonal without shedding a tear. I've been home alone with three children who were only 4, 2 and newborn! We have done months apart. This is only four days. I guess I'm just tired from too many restless nights, I woke up with a slight sore throat (Aaron and Hannah have colds. I guess they want to share) and I'm a bit stressed over the upcoming move (Watch for a post with more details once we have them firmed up. That is really what has me stressed out. Not the actual moving part, but not having details. We are experts at the actual moving part.). I really don't need intervention, so don't worry. I just needed to vent for a minute. I have friends who have watched their spouses leave for war zones, not knowing when they will be back. I think I can pull it together for four days. Enough venting from me. I am going to go get busy with the kids. But first I will leave you with a couple reunion and departure pictures.
Hannah ran out to meet P.K. at his car. He looks so sharp in his uniforms although the whites are my least favorite. To quote a line from my favorite movie, A Few Good Men, "Nobody likes the whites." I think I will watch that tonight once the kiddos are down. 
And he's off...