Because I’d Be Lost Without You

With Thanksgiving just around the corner and everyone on Facebook posting adorable ‘Say Thanks!‘ videos, it reminds me that there are many things to be thankful for. I have a loving husband, two wonderful kids, a beautiful house, a supportive family, and a neurotic dog… Who I appreciate even though he woke us up twice last night after hearing coyotes and fisher cats wailing outside. (Aside: fisher cats. There are few things more unsettling than waking up to something that sounds like it’s dying in your driveway.)

But this post isn’t about the kids or the house or the family or the dog. And it’s definitely not about coyotes or fisher cats. It’s about my husband, and how much I appreciate everything he does for our family. I know that I don’t take the time to tell him often enough. The ‘thank yous’ and ‘I appreciate yous’ tend to get lost as days bleed into days, and we’re flying by the seat of our pants with crazy work schedules, little babies, and a house and yard that need cleaning and upkeep… Because LEAVES. So many LEAVES!

John and baby

Best dad around!

Just because I don’t say the words doesn’t mean I don’t feel incredibly grateful. So today I’m going to write them down. Thank you, my love:

For every time you’ve gotten up at 5AM and let me sleep in after a long night with the kids.

For doing weekly food orders at the supermarket because you know that the People of The Grocery Store make me want to commit violent crimes. And for always remembering to buy the stuff I like.

For every delicious dinner you’ve ever made for our family. If it weren’t for you, we’d probably be eating salad every night or whatever I could whip up quickly in the microwave.

For staying home with our babies three days each week. Changing the diapers, making sure their bellies are full, keeping them happy and entertained, managing the tantrums, bathing them, and kissing their boo-boos. Seriously, thank you.

For not getting mad at me when I wake you up because you’re snoring, and for always rolling onto your stomach to make the noise stop.

For telling me that I look great after having two babies, even if I don’t always believe you.

For keeping up with the laundry on your days off. Because that shit is never ending and I’d be drowning in it by the weekend if you didn’t.

For doing the best you can to provide for our family, and staggering your work schedule with mine so that I can do the best I can to provide for our family as well.

For your kindness and understanding when I was an exhausted, hormonal beast after giving birth… And when I still am sometimes.

For taking our girls to the library, reading to them often, and being patient with our oldest when she wants to read the same book over and over and over again.

For starting the coffee (aka the nectar of life) every morning.

For teaching the kids about cool stuff like animals, dinosaurs, and Star Wars.

For being honest with me always.

For the way you always crack up laughing during comedies – it really makes watching a movie so much better.

For getting music and making playlists with me in mind, even though we don’t always have the same taste in tunes.

For emptying the drying rack, cleaning the moldy Tupperware lurking in the back of the fridge, and taking out the trash because for some reason I never ever do those three things.

For sharing important news stories with me over breakfast because you know I don’t pay as much attention as I should to current events.

And for the hundreds of other things you do for me and our family every day – thank you. I know that I don’t tell you often enough, but I love you, I appreciate you, and I’d be lost without you.

Confession: I’m a Criminal

I stole something from my favorite store. The following is my recounting of the crime. Please forgive me.

Recently, I took the girls on our weekly trip to Target. As I browsed the aisles, my oldest pounced on the reflections of florescent lights on shiny linoleum. It’s a fun game she likes to play while we shop. When she’s not yelling about boobs or begging for toys, she’s stomping around the store like a tiny T-Rex. Roar.

Which reminds me, one of the major reasons we went to Target that day was to pick up dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets. (I’m aware they’re gross, don’t judge me.) The baby had fallen asleep on the ride so I left her in the car seat instead of wrapping her in the Moby, which is what I normally do to save cart space when we shop. What can I say? I like to have plenty of room for frozen dinners laden with preservatives, and the occasional organic baby food pouch. I’m practical like that.

So there we are: snoozing baby, Tyrannosaurus toddler, and me in my yoga pants pushing the cart. We successfully passed by the lingerie section without engaging in a loud discussion about the female anatomy, and began poking around the baby aisles for an infant toothbrush. Target fail. You can buy a kit with forty-seven different personal care devices for babies, but you cannot purchase one single infant toothbrush. We took a detour to avoid the toys, grabbed some hair dye, pistachios, and disposable razors, then made our way to the frozen food section for dino chicken nuggets.

Somewhere between the cleaning supplies and the dog treats, I noticed that Tyrannosaurus toddler was approaching her Target limit and the baby was starting to stir – probably because I kept shoving products with crunchy plastic packaging into the narrow crevices between her car seat and the shopping cart. My mommy sixth sense told me it was a good time to depart.

We reached the checkout, which features a display of tiny trinkets like lip gloss, hand sanitizer, and gift cards – things that a Tyrannosaurus toddler simply cannot resist. At this point, I’m forced to multitask, loading items on the conveyor belt quickly while trying to soothe a fussy baby and diplomatically prevent any irreparable damage to Target store displays.

Boom. Store tantrums avoided – momma for the win! We reached the car, I threw the bags in the trunk, helped the toddler into her booster, hoisted the infant seat out of the cart, and that’s when I noticed it. Not an expensive electronic device or a hundred-dollar coat, but an accidentally shoplifted bag of frozen dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets.

Call the authorities.