To my husband,
I decided not to wait to write this until it was our anniversary. There is no big milestone around the corner, no special occasion. I’m writing this on a random Tuesday afternoon. Because our life is made up of random Tuesdays and Saturdays and average days running around taking care of our kids. We are in the chaos phase of our lives. Our days are spent running kids to baseball practice and paying for braces. We rush and we hustle and we hurry from one commitment to the next, and as we fall into bed exhausted at the end of every day, I think to myself, I love our life.
Sometimes we say it out loud to each other. We laugh at commotion and disarray. Sometimes we say it through gritted teeth as we steal a kiss and run in different directions, stretched thinner than we’d imagined. The responsibility of caring for our three children feels overwhelming at times. The worry can feel all consuming. But we have been given an incredible gift. This obligation we have, that we created, means something. I finally get what people mean when they say, “Enjoy it, it goes by so fast.”
I watch you when you don’t think I am looking. I see the sacrifices you make. I don’t mean the big ones — of course I recognize those. But all the little ones you make for us every single day. All the bedtime stories and early mornings and missed tee times. I want you to know how much I appreciate when you put your foot down because we don’t want to raise assholes and when you give in because you know how precious little time we have before they are gone. You make me want to stay present, not to miss a second of the time we’ve all been given.
I know we’d love to be planning our next big adventure — time away alone. But here’s the thing. This IS our big adventure. Our everyday life? This is the stuff we are going to miss. Sure, it’s full of tantrums and conflict and pressure. But it’s also so full of life. It’s full of love and affection and surprise snuggles. It’s full of the kind of laughter that will stop us in our tracks, both trying to mouth to the other, “Did you see that?” We are so connected I’ve forgotten my life before I met you.
And when we crawl into bed every night, I want you to know how much I want you. After all these years, I still think you are the sexiest man I know. And you know what makes you sexier? When you look over at me and raise your eyebrow and say, “How about one more episode of Homeland,” because it’s been a long-ass day and even though I would love to have sex with you, I’d really love to know what happens in the next episode of Homeland. And so would you. And some nights that’s OK.
And those nights when we do get away? The ones where it feels exactly like it did when we first met? Those are magic.
So on this random day, I just want to say thank you. For being the type of father and husband that makes me feel like I can accomplish anything.