Sometimes, our husbands do things that make us wonder who they are. And sometimes, they do things that make us wonder how we got so lucky.
I just have to gloat about mine. Like all marriages (right?), ours has its ups and downs. But there are some things I can always count on: his generosity and his compassion.
For example. I wanted new maternity clothes. I don't have to ask, but I did. Of course he said, "Whatever makes you feel better." And he means it. If nicer clothes raise my self-esteem, then by all means, he wants me to have it.
Three days later I woke him up from his nap with, "Can I have $600?"
If it were me, I know I would've said, "Why?" or at least, "$600?? That's a lot of money!" But he didn't say either of those things. He didn't even say, "Yeah, if you give me back massages every Friday for the next year." All he said was, "Yes." That was it. I said, "Okay!" and giggled, and then he said, "What for?" I told him, "I want to go to a writer's conference in Utah and I need money for the plane and the hotel and the conference." His response? "Oh, of course you can. Take an extra $100 for shopping."
Silly man. I'm not going shopping.
Granted, his response might not have been so mellow if we weren't getting back a very nice tax return. But even so, I'm trying so hard to be as generous as him. I have the tendency to question every time he spends $20 on candy at the grocery store. And it makes me feel like a horrible nagging wife, especially when he is so kind to me.
But yesterday took the cake. After our oldest's soccer game, we went to Fun City (kind of like Chuck E Cheese, but bigger and cheaper!). We'd been planning this all weekend. All of the sudden, in the middle of the soccer game, the rorovirus attacked me. I didn't know that was what it was, but I spent all of Fun City in the bathroom, vomiting and--er--you know.
My parents were with us. They offered to take the kids and Mark took me home, with me throwing up in a plastic bag the whole way there.
There's something about having the flu. You forget how bad it is unless you're in the throes of it. You don't realize how it jerks your whole body forward, giving you whiplash. You don't remember that you grip the toilet, trembling, gasping, shaking, frothing at the mouth, thinking you are going to die.
Through this whole ordeal, my husband was right there (well, except when I was in the girl's bathroom). He stroked my arm, wiped my mouth, pulled back my hair. He helped into my pajamas, helped me get my contacts out, and tucked me into bed. He brought me a water bottle in case I got thirsty, gave me extra blankets, called all of my commitments/appointments and told them I was sick. Then he and my dad gave me a blessing that I would get better quickly.
Today I woke up feeling weak and shaky, but not nauseous (I know, the correct term is nauseated, but that sounds wrong!). And I am full of gratitude to my husband. He deserves some kind of metal.
What can I do to reward this man? What would you do? What has yours done for you that made you feel special?