There’s a lot to be said for the trains running on time. Routine isn’t the same as rut, even though it has the same route. Uh, root. (Actually, I have no idea if it has the same root.) Normal is good, isn’t it? Otherwise, wouldn’t we redefine normal, if we could?

It was good today to get back into a familiar routine. Almost. I’m not quite there yet, but I’m working my way back to something I’m comfortable with. Like an old sweater. There’s nothing wrong with an old sweater, or an old pair of tennis shoes, is there? I mean, sometimes it’s nice to have a new pair, but they fit better when they’ve been around the block a couple of times.

Obviously, I need a break in routine every so often. I haven’t had nearly enough of them this year. And all the frothing excitement of the last week has been a thrilling adventure, a rollercoaster ride on a wobbly track. But do you know what I feel when the rollercoaster ride is over? Relief, usually.

I think it’ll be a few more days before I’m comfortably rolling along with life again. And it’ll undoubtedly be a little longer than that before Kylie and her family can feel the sweet peace of being in a comfortable rut. They’ll want to enjoy every bit of this journey, as the new world is opened up for discovery. I’m lucky to have a window seat, because there’s nothing greater than watching a child invent herself and discover her place in the family. But it’ll be a lot less stressful when there’s a little more structure to the days and nights. Just as exciting, but without the trauma.