We’re not big celebrators of the Valentine’s Day here. Well, not the one day a year that we are supposed to anyways. We are mushy and gushy and lovey all year round. We don’t celebrate much other than a card or some good take out. I buy dollar store favors for Little One and she enjoys baking heart cookies. I know plenty of other adults that go ga-ga for flowers and jewelry but I guess for me it’s so close to my birthday, right after Christmas, and right before our anniversary that it just seems like a waste of money. I love my man all year and I do (small) gestures every week to show him appreciation.
I don’t talk about him much on the blog, except as a quiet supportive voice. But he is a guy’s guy, a social person, outgoing and talkative. When he walks in a room he sees a crowd of potential new friends. He is loved by his boss, coworkers and employees. He just got a big promotion and he deserved it for years before he got it. But he was patient and waited for the right moment. He works hard every single day, many hours of the day (I think too many). But he does this to support his family, and that is how he shows us his love.
He’s not big on DIY home projects. He’s not much of a chef. But he vacuums the whole house and he mows the lawn, two things I will not do. He wipes Little One’s nose when it’s runny and shares snacks with her. He holds her hand when we cross the street. He laughs at her jokes and her dancing. He sits on the sofa with her and plays Mario on the Wii, explaining each level to her as she looks on with amazement. He taught her to pull his finger, which makes her giggle with wild abandon. He gives me hugs when he knows that I need it, before I know I need it. He can give me a look across the room to reassure me that everything is ok/will be ok. He will sleep many nights on an uncomfortable chair/bed in the hospital just so I won’t have to be alone. He asks doctors questions. He always remains optimistic for me, for us.
He is open to adoption, to fostering. He is open not just because we can’t have any more children, but because he doesn’t have a difference in his heart for biological or adopted children. He wants to serve. He knows what it’s like to be abandoned as a child and wants to help.
It’s really scary when your wife calls from another state and says she can’t see and her 84 year old grandmother has to drive them home. It’s hard to be strong when your wife’s doctor says she needs to be rushed for an emergency MRI. It’s tough to get out there and shovel a path for the EMTs to rush your wife to the ER. It really sucks to sleep on a hospital chair/bed for two nights while your wife gets test upon test. But he was strong for me when I needed him, he never showed me any stress and he has remained faithfully optimistic. He worked when he could and he stayed home to help. So today I get to be mushy because my husband is one hell of a guy.