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Thursday night my husband came home from work to find me cradling our three-year old while she sat on a plastic Elmo toilet seat, coaxing her with all of the resources my four year college degree equipped me with to please poop! Not only was I huddled in the bathroom chanting, “poop poop, you can do it!”, but the bed hadn’t been made, the remains of breakfast were still on the table and I had called him requesting he bring home some dinner! He comes home every night to some amalgamation of this scenario, good man that he is. As I pondered on that I realized, he comes home every night. This is not something I take lightly, I feel extremely grateful for this kind of partnership.
When I finally emerged from the bathroom (with the three year old who did NOT release her bowels) I found my husband in the kitchen getting dinner ready. He stopped to present me with a bouquet of lilies he brought home. I just about melted. I just marveled at this man who can come home to this crazy thing we call “family” every night. It humbles me to know he can look past the crazy to see the beauty in me, and the children.
I was raised with some “interesting notions” about men and family life, despite my own reeducation as an adult I still marvel every single time I see a man do or say something that shows how devoted he is to his family. Every.single.time. Whether it is my own husband, or fathers I see at the park it just moves me to see that men too find joy and happiness with their families.
To my husband- thank you for the best fifteen years of my life, I can’t wait for more!