A Love Letter

To my husband,

    It has been seven years since we celebrated our first Valentine's together.  I will never forget it, and mainly because of your infamous blunder :) Standing in line at the restaurant, finding out that the wait was 3 hours long, and I hear you say "it was not this long when I took (ex's name) here for Valentine's Day last year".  Oh yes ... with my back turned towards you, in a loud & crowded restaurant, I somehow managed to hear that.  You were both embarrassed & astounded.   Even today, you say "How could you possibly have heard me say that?!".  Needless to say, it made for a very memorable first Valentine's :)

    Seven years later, we have learned that Valentine's Day is not really our thing.  We do not need to go out, buy cards, get chocolates or flowers.  When we try to do romance, as evidenced by that first date, it usually gets botched :) What we have learned is that love is shown by the little things that happen every day.

    I love the way you always make sure to give me a hug and kiss when you get home from work, even when our little boy wiggles in between us to push us apart.  I love taking walks with you and using that time to talk about anything and everything.  I love listening as you make our son laugh his deep belly laughs because he so enjoys being with you.  I love that you empty the cat litter & take out the trash simply because you know I dislike doing it.  I love that you get up with our son every Saturday morning & make pancakes with him, followed by cartoons.  I love that you patiently put up with my perpetual mess on the bathroom counter, even when it makes it way over onto your side.  I love that you bought a pink rosebush, even though you dislike rosebushes, simply because pink roses are my favorite flower.  I love that you can take one look at me and know if I need a laugh or a hug.  I love that you are a handyman and you have so much knowledge about how to fix things around the house (and that you labeled every drawer on your toolbox so I would know where things go). I love your sensitive heart & your caring nature.  I love your work ethic.  I love that you are a man of God, the head of our household, and the provider of our family.

Simply put ... I love you!!

Valentine's Day 2004 

As I went to clear off the table last night after dinner I found myself inwardly groaning.  My little one had lasagna and yogurt, got it on his hands and smeared it all over the table.  Fan-tastic.  Then I started thinking of the toys that needed to be picked up, the clothes that needed to be washed, the kitchen that needed cleaning, and other random household chores.  I was tired.  The last thing I wanted to do was clean.  I had gone to the library earlier in the day and was looking forward to relaxing & reading.  

With dishes in hand, I head to the kitchen.  Halfway there (about 3 steps), a still small whisper in my heart said "Be Thankful".

I am thankful for the messy table, for it means that I am able to feed my family.

I am thankful for the toys scattered around the house, for it means that my child is happily playing with what has been given to him. 

I am thankful for the laundry I have to do, for it means my family has clothes to keep them warm (or cool).

   I am thankful for the bathrooms I have to clean, for it means indoor plumbing. 

I am thankful for the dishes I have to unload/load, for it means that I do not have to wash them by hand.

I am thankful for the books I have to put away, for it means my child loves to read ("read").

As I plop down on the couch to read, I am thankful for the contentment that comes from knowing my house is in order and my heart is thankful.