Today was a busy day. We have delayed our trip home for Thanksgiving by a few days. Chris needed some time post-marching band to work on his dissertation. And my sanity needed us to get much closer to actually moving into the house.
I hate coming home to a mess.
Hate. It.
Thankfully, we have accomplished both things.
Because of my husband.
It's been a while since I have given Chris some praise. Real sincere praise.
He's about due.
Chris is the hardest worker I have ever met. And not just the stressed out worker we all know.
I have a theory about our culture and that is we seem to wear stress like a badge of honor. We try to out stress each other.
I'll see your deadline at work and raise you in-laws coming next weekend.
We use it as a bonding tool.
Almost like women use complaining about being fat.
Should someone ever say, "You know, I'm not feeling stressed these days", we would look at them as if they were a stuck-up-no-good-hound-dog.
Kinda the same way a woman would look at another woman who said, "I'm okay with my weight and my rear end is rocking these jeans".
Those sorts of things are just not said out loud. The fear of retribution is simply too high of a risk.
Chris is not one of those people.
Sure, he gets stressed. I know when he does. He gets a stomach ache. Then stops eating. Which causes a headache.
But he doesn't really inflict the stress on us.
His list of things to be done is enormous. The dissertation alone has to be killer.
The house. The cars. The finances. Being a daddy to a daughter. And being a husband to me.
Which might just be the most difficult.
But rarely if ever, does he bring that stress home.
This week alone he has graciously taken care of all my requests. Painting, hanging stuff, moving boxes and all while finding time to do a couple of interviews for his paper, playing with Aubrey Kate and listening to me yammer on about decorating.
He even took Pumpkin to Lowe's with him. Twice.
Thirteen years ago today, as we sat in his truck in my church parking lot talking about moving from dating to a real relationship, I could never have imagined how good it would be. How good he would be.
I am so grateful for Chris and how he takes care of us. He is a blessing and one I am so proud to call my husband.
Thank you Lord for Chris and for our marriage. Through You, we found each other. And because of You, we have a beautiful life as a family.
I hate coming home to a mess.
Hate. It.
Thankfully, we have accomplished both things.
Because of my husband.
It's been a while since I have given Chris some praise. Real sincere praise.
He's about due.
Chris is the hardest worker I have ever met. And not just the stressed out worker we all know.
I have a theory about our culture and that is we seem to wear stress like a badge of honor. We try to out stress each other.
I'll see your deadline at work and raise you in-laws coming next weekend.
We use it as a bonding tool.
Almost like women use complaining about being fat.
Should someone ever say, "You know, I'm not feeling stressed these days", we would look at them as if they were a stuck-up-no-good-hound-dog.
Kinda the same way a woman would look at another woman who said, "I'm okay with my weight and my rear end is rocking these jeans".
Those sorts of things are just not said out loud. The fear of retribution is simply too high of a risk.
Chris is not one of those people.
Sure, he gets stressed. I know when he does. He gets a stomach ache. Then stops eating. Which causes a headache.
But he doesn't really inflict the stress on us.
His list of things to be done is enormous. The dissertation alone has to be killer.
The house. The cars. The finances. Being a daddy to a daughter. And being a husband to me.
Which might just be the most difficult.
But rarely if ever, does he bring that stress home.
This week alone he has graciously taken care of all my requests. Painting, hanging stuff, moving boxes and all while finding time to do a couple of interviews for his paper, playing with Aubrey Kate and listening to me yammer on about decorating.
He even took Pumpkin to Lowe's with him. Twice.
Thirteen years ago today, as we sat in his truck in my church parking lot talking about moving from dating to a real relationship, I could never have imagined how good it would be. How good he would be.
I am so grateful for Chris and how he takes care of us. He is a blessing and one I am so proud to call my husband.
Thank you Lord for Chris and for our marriage. Through You, we found each other. And because of You, we have a beautiful life as a family.
So sweet!! What a blessing! And coming home to a dirty, undone house? Against the law.
ReplyDeleteThese are the posts that make me happy for you. Because I know you. And I love you guys.
ReplyDeleteBut also it makes me hurt. I hurt so bad and so deep that it feels like I won't ever get it back again. Does that make sense?
Basically I'm happy/sad/maybe jealous/thankful for you/not a super friend/punched in the guts with reality/and so so happy for your life. Really. I love you.