We both know I’m not Cate Beckinsale. Not even close. But you tell me I’m beautiful even now, even after three kids, despite my tired eyes and peanut-butter smeared sweatshirt.
We both know I have high expectations. For myself. The house. You. Our family. But you remind me not to worry. You believe in me as I go after my dreams. You vacuum so I can go to sleep.
We both know I write a blog. About our family. About me. Sometimes about you and not necessarily in the most favorable light. But that’s so I can work out things that bother me before I bring them up with you. So I won’t try to hoard the mood or start a fight. Besides, if I only sang your praises, my blog might be viewed as fiction. “Surely such a supportive and helpful husband is the stuff of fairy tales and fables,” my readers would say.
We both know I want a lot out of life. A big family, a career, the world. But I know that these things are only possible with you in my life. You make me want more.
We both know you spoil me. Even if it’s just a bag of peanut M&M’s on sale at Kroger’s. And yet I complain when you buy bottles of Coke Zero at work. I’m sorry. Really, you deserve a Coke Zero fountain and a moat of M&M’s.
We both know we’re busy. Some nights, I wonder if we’ve talked at all or only really through our children. But I know some day we’ll have plenty of time to talk, once our children are grown and its just us again. You’ll make me a cup of tea, and I’ll pour your sugary cereal. Then we’ll look back on these days and the teamwork it took to look after and love our kids. Then we’ll smile, remembering all the happiness we shared and created together.
We both know I don’t thank you enough. Recently, we haven’t held each other enough either. The little one starts to cry for a diaper change. A big one wants his blanket, her snack. But just being with you, knowing that we are in it together is more than enough. Thank you.
I love you through a black hole and back.