My Working Man

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I write about my kids on this blog, and about writing, and about myself (sorry), but I rarely ever write about my husband.

I should…I mean, he doesn’t even read my blog so I could post some really good stories and he’d never dispute them or even know they’re on here! As tempting as it is to tell some really juicy stuff, I won’t. Plus we have no really juice stories anyways. #oldandmarried

So in the spirit of Valentine’s Day (a day early) – here it goes.

My husband is a good man. He’s a nerd, for sure. He’s a gamer, a reader, an introvert, and he enjoys being alone (that’s part of his introvertedness – is that a word?). With regards to those things, he’s everything that I’m not. We’re opposites. My 14-yr-old daughter teases me and wonders how we ever got together. There are days when I wonder that too.

Then I remember the circumstances and realize that there’s a good chance that God orchestrated our meeting in the first place. I can’t take the credit.

My husband is a good provider, and I sometimes forget to acknowledge him for that. He works at least 40 hours a week, and always has. He rarely comes home to a spotless house or a wife dressed like Mary Tyler Moore in The Dick Van Dyke Show. My “mom uniform” is yoga pants and t-shirts, and I work at home, so there’s no need to wear makeup. Ever. And he doesn’t complain.

He doesn’t always come home to a fresh cooked meal (I have no idea what I’m making tonight), and often will pick up dinner for me, even after he’s had a long day. He usually walks in the door to some form of chaos, though it’s gotten better as the kids have gotten older. But there’s usually some drama that’s gone on during the day, and it’s usually the first thing he hears about after “hello.”

When I do cook, he NEVER complains about what I’ve made. Maybe it’s because he knows not to bite the hand that feeds him, but I also think it’s because he knows that I get enough grief from the kids about dinner. (Do I have to eat that?!) If I ask nicely, he’ll even cook. He’s better at it than I am, but far messier.

He doesn’t nickel and dime me. Granted, I’m the thrifty one, but he’s never once complained about me buying something for myself or the kids.

He’s okay with watching the kids while I get away for a few hours. He’s seen me go a little insane after being with the kids day in and day out, and he wants to avoid that at all costs. He even watched the kids when they were babies and I went on a 3-day women’s retreat. And they all survived.

In every sense of the word he is my better half. He trusts me. Completely. And I trust him.

Why do I tell you all of this? Not to brag, but because he deserves a corner of this blog too. He provides a lot of the material, after all. And as a testament to his character. He’s a good man, a working man, a Godly man, a nerdy man…and he’s my man. I wanted to tell you there are good men out there, and they aren’t always the ones that you expect them to be.

Sometimes they’re nerdy, gaming, introverts, with weird senses of humor and a strong affinity for Godzilla movies.

Sometimes God sends them to you, even when you weren’t expecting it.

Have a Happy Valentine’s Day!

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