There are moments in the chaos of having a family, in the reality of day-to-day goings, that my husband means very little to me. I don’t intend it, or even think of it in that way, but sometimes receive the reminder that my attitude and actions have shown it to be true. I know that often, I act far less than grateful towards him.
But I am grateful.
Today I woke up late. With two little girls who needed to leave for school in less than five minutes, I was frustrated immediately. I came downstairs to find the two on the couch, dressed, ready, and finishing breakfast and my husband making sure their book bags were packed. I pulled my husband out of earshot of the kids and asked him why he hadn’t woke me up. He told me that he turned my alarm off thinking I might like to sleep in. It seems like a nice gesture, but I was irritated. Neither girl had on an outfit that matched, and although he said the bookbags were ready, there was a homework sheet still on the table. “Whatever,” I said and poured myself some coffee while he called the kids out to get their coats on.
He left to take them to school while I stayed behind with our toddler still in bed. It took me under a minute to feel guilty. Who cares if one of the kids forgets their homework just this once? who cares if they don’t match one day of the school year? I know I shouldn’t. I had just acted as if him trying to do something nice for me was the worst thing ever. I had acted like a brat. I sent him an apology text and thanked him for letting me sleep in, but realized I do this far too often.
The truth is my husband is an amazing man, he works very hard to support our family. He is a wonderful dad and he is truly my best friend. I wish I didn’t forget that so often.
He is my worst critic, and although I don’t always like that about him, he is also my biggest supporter. He is honest with me, and when I set a goal to do something, he will do whatever he can to help me achieve it, even when he doesn’t agree.
I don’t thank him enough for that.
I don’t thank him for those little things, those times when he is tired, but stays up late to listen to me rant about something so small that he doesn’t care about it, but he acts like he does. When I come home from the grocery store and am stressed that our toddler was grouchy the whole time, so I forget to thank him for doing the dishes while I was gone. When I am just upset for no reason whatsoever, and he tries to make me feel better
Sometimes, when we share little talks, just telling each other about our day, he laughs or smiles, and my whole heart feels warm. I remember that I do love this man more than words can ever say, and I’m reminded that my actions haven’t shown it either.
I’m not a perfect wife. I’m not perfect in any way at all, but I know my husband doesn’t care. He loves me for me. Even when I act selfish and ungrateful and it’s fair to say downright rude. I just hope that I can show him more. I hope that in the many years I foresee ahead of us, I will remember to say thank you far more often, even when I don’t feel much like it, because he deserves it, because he is my partner, because I love him, and because he makes my life a little easier every single day.