For my husband
I'm stuck. I've got writers?/bloggers? block.
I've been trying to write a post for my husband, we've been married eight years in May just gone, and here I am still trying to articulate what I want to say. It's not going to be a soppy gushy post, I promise you won't need a sick bucket. There's so many things I want to say, to be thankful for.
I'm wanting to say how grateful I am that he understands that the children will always come first but at times I need to get away from them. I want to say thank you for the days when he walks in the door and I walk out of it on some completely tenuous trip to the supermarket because I need five minutes to myself. He never asks why or questions the necessity for me to go to the supermarket for a bottle of bleach when we already have five in the cupboard from last week. That sometimes I don't want to help with the bath time routine but instead I want sit downstairs in the lounge watching an episode of Eastenders whilst he deals with the bathroom floor being covered in water and the children running riot in their naked wetness.That sometimes I want to drink a cup of tea whilst its hot.
I wanted to say that I do appreciate the compliments even though I know I probably look like $h*t and quite frequently have some form of food product on me; or the fact that I can't remember the last time I actually really washed my hair (dry shampoo definitely doesn't count) and that I usually blow a raspberry when he pays me the compliment. (Yes I am that immature). That I'm sorry I don't always return his affection, some days if another person touches me/climbs on me I will literally scream. I'm sorry that some nights I'm asleep before my head actually hits the pillow and other nights I'm wide awake to the early hours of the morning worrying about the children or the finances or something else that is probably totally unnecessary at 3am.
For always getting up to the children in the night and apologising for snoring every single time I have to wake him up, for never complaining that I'm disturbing him even if he is disturbing me. For never ever sleeping separately from me even though some of the nights your exhausted and would just like a bit of peace. For always coming straight home from work and some nights immediately going straight back out again for swimming lessons or Jujitsu or whatever it is that evening.
For dealing with my anxiety sometimes on a daily basis and being strong enough to tell me when the anxiety is taking control and I'm just trembling in its wake. For always trying to lighten the mood and making an effort to make me laugh and not giving up until you succeed. For watching my trashy TV programmes and mostly making it through them without making a sarcastic comment or smashing the TV, I know sometimes its been a struggle.
I realise I'm sounding like a smug married and I did say that you wouldn't need a sick bucket but maybe I was wrong. You see I'm exceptionally lucky; eight years ago I married my best friend and he is my best friend, he's my confidant my better half most of the time and I'm not always appreciative. A lot of the time by the end of the day I'm exhausted and just want to slump in a heap and then it's easy to get lost in the silence and then that too becomes part of routine. So I'm sorry that quite often I take for granted his feelings, his needs and sometimes what he wants, especially when all he wants is for me to be happy and would do anything to make it that way.
Eleven years ago I made a friend, a friend who has seen me through the hardest times of my life and arguably some of his; I met the man who would support me through everything and always always have my back. Eight years ago he became my husband and almost six years ago he became the superhero dad that he is. Maybe this isn't the way I wanted to express all of these feelings but it's made me realise just how much he does and how important he is. I cannot wait to be sitting here in another eight, another ten, another twenty (even) years wishing my husband a belated but very very Happy Anniversary.
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