I Won the Lottery

Get ready to be jealous ladies. I’m not talking a little jealous- I'm talking a lot. I won the husband lottery. I should have known just how lucky I was when, at 2 weeks in he threw me a freaking PROM for my birthday, I loved that night but I didn’t realize my life would be full of “proms”.

You see, my husband is thoughtful and kind, my best friend calls him “cheesy”, and God do I love it. He drops me pick up lines on a daily, even now, 11 years in. He is funny, he is a genius- Rainman smart- he is amazing with kids, and pretty much a charmer to anyone who is breathing. If you know my husband, you love him. I’m not just saying that; my mother loves him more than she loves me. He is a Frank Sinatra kind of guy, no.one.dislikes him. And I WON. He chose me,

I am the lucky one. 

And sometimes I think, as I have been pregnant for 30 of the last 50 months... why oh why did he put up with me? Then I remember, not only is he “it”, we took vows, we don’t believe in divorce. We discuss that often as too many of our friends and acquaintances call it quits.  And thank goodness we don't because golly piffle have I been hormonal through all the pregnancies and post partums.

But I’m not writing this just to toot his horn. I’m writing this to remind myself that it’s a partnership. We are both in this marriage, we are both parents, we are both in it for the long haul. It is hard.  It is SO HARD. It has evolved. We are not the spring chickens we used to be. We don’t live downtown in a loft apartment  across the street from the bar we love and frequent 4-5 nights a week anymore. Suburbia has taken over our lives. (I’ll have to do another post about our amazing neighborhood sometime) Kids have taken over. Our conversations aren’t so much about our dreams and aspirations, as they are about diapers, dinner, bath and kids’ behavior. We snap, well, mostly I snap and he tells jokes, but that’s just us. 

I digress. I won the husband lottery because our first son was born 3.5 years ago and my husband transformed into ten times the father I knew he would be. And I didn’t know he could be any better than that until our daughter was born and we were in a whirlpool of bad news and unexpected health ailment quicksand. I was a basket case of emotions and anxiety- and what did he do? He held me, told jokes, and he made friends with the NICU nurses about wiener dogs and with the NICU doctors about transformer prosthetic eyes.... this guy, my guy. I didn’t know eleven years ago when I met him that he would make the unbearable feel manageable.  That he would make just about anything we faced, doable and not just that, fun.  Then the third kid came along and now we just laugh... we are outnumbered.

But guess what? Even HE drives me batty sometimes and I have to remind myself that he is human. And needs me to compromise too at times. So, last night, because having a baby in our room has always caused him so much anxiety and lack of sleep... I moved our 2 month old out of our room. And it breaks my heart, because this is our last baby.  Moving this baby out of our room feels like one step closer to them all going to college and leaving me.. err us. Laugh, go ahead, because the rational part of me is laughing too at the ridiculousness of that statement. But it is true and I did it anyway. Because there are things that you do for the “man of the year” in your life. Things that kill you but make you stronger. At least me anyway. 

So tonight, I will take a deep breath and remind myself that it’s ok, we will be ok. And if not I’m sure my man will make fun of something I do and make me laugh at myself.  Life is short. Find someone that makes you laugh.