Today is Husbands birthday. So of course Buddy has delighted me by waking up early and ruining my blog plans.
He really is a great partner, you know. I give him a hard time a lot, because I’m super affectionate and loving like that, but he’s the best.
How many men would endure not one but TWO paternal leaves from work and not end up being dead? That shit is just not in a man’s blood you know. Needless to say, we have all survived one another, despite the exhaustion and some bickering and about 5 million dirty diapers. Does the local landfill give frequent dumper points? Cause we’d be taking one HELL of a vacation.
Anyway. He’s tolerated a lot of crazy hormonal outbursts from me over the last year. He always does the things I ask for help with, and he hasn’t left me yet.
He does all the yucky manly jobs and never expects me to pitch in. He eats what I cook and never complains, even if it’s not that great. He encourages me to do things for myself, never bitches at me over the credit card bill and compliments me on my new dress instead.
Ultimately, we don’t live out some fairy tale lifestyle. We work hard for the things we have and are able to treat ourselves often enough. We’ve created this little family together and try to enjoy those small moments. Like having a rum once the babes are finally sleeping.
It’s the little things, like our Sunday dinners and shows with Bestie that keep us going.
And ultimately, I love him. I love the grey hairs to come and the hip replacements and the walkers and the nursing home we’ll eventually live in together.
Because we’ll be that couple. The 90 somethings sitting on the front steps, drink in hand, laughing about something or other.
And it will be enough. Because he always has been.
Happy Birthday. Love you more than you probably know.