Yesterday was one of those days that makes a stay-at-home mom long for a nice desk job…even though it’s Saturday.
It started with an early wake-up (is there any other kind with kids in the summer??), followed by a wet spot in the (master) bed from a leaky pull-up. Joy.
While I was cleaning up the wet mattress and stripping the sheets, Wyatt found and emptied onto the floor the new bottle of homeopathic cough/cold medicine that was the only thing that FINALLY got him to sleep the night before with his gunky self.
At some point, I finally fed, cleaned, and loaded everyone up for a trip to (anywhere but our house) Walmart to get groceries…and another bottle of the medicine since he was still gunky. That trip went relatively well…except for the constant whining about being hungry (“we just ate breakfast, you had a snack in the car, and we’ll have lunch when we get home…NO WE AREN’T GETTING….”). You get the idea.
Then we checked out. I paid for the groceries and reached back for the receipt. RIP! The contents of the brand new bag of tortilla chips now covered the inside of the shopping cart. All of them. Both boys had a chip in each hand and an innocently baffled look on their faces. I just calmly scooped the chips into an empty shopping bag and asked the cashier (who happened to be a friend from high school) to toss them into her trash can. She offered to let me get a new bag, but at that point, all I could see was the exit.
The day continued in like fashion…spilled drinks, artwork on bedroom furniture, gravy that wouldn’t thicken, cubed steak that didn’t seem freezer-burned until you tasted it, and the list goes on. Did I mention that I’m trying to lose weight, but all I can think about is wanting a Hershey bar??? Argh!
As I talked over my day to Michael, he commiserated about the frustrations that I’d faced. He didn’t mention the fact that he’d just finished his sixth straight 13+ hour work day (even though he’s actually only supposed to work four days a week), or that he will only have one day off before doing it again. He didn’t talk about having to work outside in the heat so that I could sit inside with our children. He didn’t mention any of the struggles from his own job. He just listened and understood.
Then a couple of hours later, finally, I got the little man to sleep. Zander was already down, so all was quiet. I was able to breathe a sign of relief…until I remembered that I hadn’t yet finished washing the dishes from supper. They were still sitting there on the stove.
I found the motivation deep within myself to go back into the kitchen…and I found this…
It took my breath away. This is my husband speaking my love language in a way that I had forgotten he even knew. This is the most beautiful gift that he could have given to me because it was so thoughtfully chosen, so quietly given…
The beauty of the roses…the message of “relax” in the wine…the message of “you’re beautiful the way you are” in the chocolate…and the message of appreciation in the card that he chose.
We don’t really emphasize holidays like Mother’s Day or Father’s Day with one another (of course, OUR moms still get cards…). I’m good with that. It works for us, and it makes moments like this even more special.
He lifted me up when I needed the affirmation most…not when the calendar told him to appreciate me. There is so much beauty in spontaneous expressions of love.
I am so blessed to have a loving, giving, compassionate husband. He is my love. He is the other half that God crafted to complete me, and I am so thankful for it.