My husband’s birthday was this week. In honor of the great guy that he is, I dug this post up out of the archives (originally posted on November 2, 2010) and reposted it to say thanks for all “those little things” he does EVERY day to keep this family together. Now that we have two little ones, he’s even more of a blessing in my life! He’s a great leader and a wonderful friend, and I am so proud to be his wife!
I Was a Single Mom this Weekend
I know there are some hunting widows out there, so you know what I’m talking about. For me, my husband was away for the weekend, headed to a Penn State game with my brother. He’s normally away coaching his own football game on Saturday mornings, so I didn’t really think anything of it until about noon. Then the little things started cropping up.
No one to help carry the obnoxiously awkward scarecrow at Michaels as I maneuvered the stroller. No one to run back to the car when I forgot the baby’s Puff snacks at the Little Gridder football game. And again when I forgot her sippy cup. No one to hold my coffee cup as I lugged the baby, her bag, a blanket and various other “very necessary” gear down two flights of stairs and up the bleachers. No one to sit with and talk to at the one-year-old’s birthday party I attended. No one to grab a towel as I gave the baby her bath, and no one (beside me!) to rock the baby back to sleep after she woke up for the fourth time in two hours.
Throughout the day, something would remind me of my husband. Then, I would start thinking of him and some conversation we’d recently had. Sure, not all our conversations were heart stopping, but that’s part of the beauty of marriage. You have someone to share everything with: the exciting and the mundane.
In our house (and probably yours too!), Sunday mornings are always crazy. Scrambling to gather all the Children’s Church materials, review the lesson again, get the baby dressed, get myself dressed (where did I put those shoes!?), trying to eat some breakfast, trying even harder to drink some coffee, and get out the door in time to catch the announcements. This weekend was extra bad. Too often, I forget how much Mike does in the morning. From getting up with the baby and giving me an extra 10 minutes of sleep to getting her dressed (it takes a lot of time to get tights on a squiggly little thing!). If you’re reading this, Mike, thank you.
I appreciate you. A lot.
Thanks for taking out the trash every week, picking up ground beef on your way home from work, getting yet another gallon of milk at the gas store, playing with the kids, providing for this family, reading stories to the kids every night, and all the other little things you do that add up to a very big deal.
You’re a great guy. Funny, strong, and someone I really admire. I love you. Happy Birthday!