Saturday, December 13, 2014

Blessing


Do you ever have days that you just feel sorry for yourself? Well for me, today was one of those days... Which, let's be honest, is pretty ridiculous. I'm pretty sure it all started around food. Seriously, I'm always hungry... ALWAYS. And when I am REALLY hungry, I am also undeniably cranky. Beware the nursing mom who needs a snack! It's like a switch flips in my head and suddenly I am no longer a rational, well thinking human being, but rather a ravenous bloodhound hot on the trail of box of Cheez-its or a s'mores pop tart. (man, are those things tasty!) And this morning, I skipped breakfast... Uh oh! I knew the moment I left the house that this was a bad idea, but I plowed ahead anyways... After all, my four year old's ballet teacher wasn't going to wait for me to make an omelette.

Now the unfortunate beneficiary of my hangry (that's a word, right!?!) outbursts is my husband. In this mind altering state, everything he does drives me crazy! Did he just open that door with an attitude?, or I asked him to change that diaper two minutes ago! Why does my kid still stink?!? , or Why is he driving so slow?! Clearly he doesn't care that I'm about to perish in a most inconvenient manner!!! Poor guy. This is totally not his fault. In my more rational and well fed moments, I know he is devoted husband who treats me with respect and kindness and patience, and most of all, love. He's my best friend and the awesome father of my children. So, after lunch and a two hour nap, I reminded myself of this... I have nothing to feel sorry for myself about... After all, I am unbelievably blessed!

So, now that it is late and I am rocking a gassy baby that is as stiff as a board and won't fall asleep, I figure I have plenty of time to tell one of the many reasons why. 

My husband- He's a pretty amazing guy! He's one of those dads that's on the floor with the kids, wrestling or playing dolls (whichever the situation requires.) He gets up at night when the kids wake up, so I can get a few more minutes of sleep. He really does change a lot of diapers, and most of them quite timely! He washes my daughter's hair because she screams like a banshee when  I try. And if you need someone to be impressed with toddler muscles and substandard drawings of Christmas trees, he's your guy! But more than a good father, he is a great husband. He tells me I'm beautiful when I feel like a frumpy, shabby mess. He sends me I love you texts when he knows I'm sad (or hangry.) He pretends every meal I make is the best one I've ever attempted and even forces himself to eat seconds just to cheer me up. Because he is my cheerleader (in the most masculine sense of the word, of course!) He chooses to see the best in me and forgives my shortcomings long before I've humbled myself to be penitent. He is the love of my life and I don't take the time to tell him this enough. He is my greatest blessing and my truest friend. I love you, Timothy. 





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