Our anniversary is New Years Eve, but like most things, I'm impatient and want to get things going *now*. That said, today? I was total trophy wife material. Now, listen...I'm ordinarily not such trophy wife material. But today? Today I did *good*.

The house from top to bottom? Spotless.
The garbage? Out.
The children? Freshly bathed and sleeping soundly.
The dishes? Washed, dried, and put away.
The laundry? Last load in the dryer.
Snowball cookies with mini chocolate chips? Baked.
Red velvet cake balls with extra milk chocolate drizzle? Done (and delicious).

Happy early Anniversary, babe! <3

We're not really the go-out-for-a-big-night-on-the-town kind of couple. We like things low key, and we voluntarily celebrate every holiday with the kids (hey, one day they won't *want* to hang out with us, so we'll take it when and where we can get it *while* we can get it ;). For our actual anniversary on NYE, we'll probably stay home, order a pizza, and have a NYE celebration of sorts with our littles. Perfection. Seriously, seriously so. <3

But since we're talking anniversary, I've gotta give a shout out to the man who puts up with me and has done so (willingly, might I add--what's wrong with this guy?) for (almost) five years. Longer if you count the time spent dating.

Here's my relationship past in a nutshell: emotionally traumatic, unattainable connection, unfortunately tumultuous, or horrifically boring. Amazingly, none of these classifications cover our marriage. (There is a god, apparently.) So here's a little(ish) letter to my man, expressing some of my gratitude (just some--there's a lot more where this came from!) regarding the past five years...

Husband,

When I think of things I love the very most about you...your ability to make me laugh always comes to mind immediately. You are the funniest person I know, and no one--and I mean NO ONE--can get me cracking up like you can. It doesn't matter where we are: at home on the couch, having popcorn dates, out to dinner, with the kids, in the car, you name a spot, I've probably laughed there (hysterically at times, I'm sure). I've always hated the sound of my laughter, but the fact that you love it--and bring it out in me so fully--leads me to love it a bit, too. Even when things are all around sour, you can get me to crack a smile like no one else can (well, barring the kids ;). Sometimes I kinda want to punch you for it, but for the most part, I don't mind smiling in spite of myself.

I love your dedication to keeping me a stay-at-home mom. Financially, it would make much more sense for me to go to work (okay, if I had a job that paid more than childcare expenses, that is). I know this, and you do too. But because being home is so important to me and almost equally as important to you, you work long hours at both a full and part time job without a single complaint and an always-ridiculous amount of scheduling stress. I don't tell you as often as I should that I appreciate you--and all you do--in every conceivable way. And I do appreciate it, truly. As Bear inches toward his fifth birthday, I can say with certainty that no job in this world at any salary would be worth what I've had for all this time, and for what I continue to have with the kids. "Thank you" will never be good enough, in my humble opinion.

I love that you are the most amazing father in the world. I love that you can work a sixty hour shift and pop through the door ready to build tracks or color or do whatever it is the kids want to do. I love that you soak them up as much as you can to get you through hours and hours away from home, and I love the excitement on all their faces when your car pulls up outside. I love that we co-parent as a team always; I love that you're so "hands on" with all elements of parenthood--the fun times and the not-so-fun times alike.

I love that you never felt the need for a biological child, citing that our children *are* your children and that  biology has nothing to do with how deeply you love the three of them. I love how you never once pushed IVF, knowing how I frown upon invasive (and non-holistic! The horror of it all!) medicine and the ethical issues surrounding it (to clarify, ethical issues as a CF carrier specifically; this is not speaking of my feelings toward IVF in general) as such, even though it would be the only way we would ever have a biological child together. I love how it doesn't matter (has never mattered), and how flippantly you dismiss those who voice concerns that you "might someday want a child of your own" (merely stating you already have that, thanks). I love that when I think back to Bear's birth in the OR, I first see his sweet face and then tears rolling down your cheeks as the two of you were whisked away to the nursery. I still get the chills when I think of your first call to me from Guatemala, saying--also in tears--that "your baby girl wants to say hi to her mommy". And I'll never forget standing over LF's crib those first few nights, just looking at her, soaking her in, sharing our happy tears and dreams for our "littlest". Sounds like a lot of tears, but they're all of the good kind (and that's what matters most).

I love the fact that you don't mind when I ask you to do something...oh, wait. Let's make this one easier:

Me: Babe, could you (insert task here), please?
You: Oh, okay. I'm starting it now.
*two minutes later*
Me: Oh, hey...babe? Babe? Could you do (xyz) please? Soonishly?
You: Sure
Me: Hey babe, did you finish (insert original task here)?
You: I will in a few minutes; I was working on it, but then you asked me to do (xyz). But I'm on it!

I love that you don't give me a hard time when I ask you to do something around the house (only to ask you to do something differently a moment later). I love that you do it, and that you do it patiently (even though if the shoe were on the other foot, we both know I'd just about blow a gasket).

I love the little things you do to surprise me. We're not the love poems and flowers and things of that nature type, but I can't remember the last time you left for work in the morning without leaving me a cup of something-Starbucks-related on the patio, even though it meant you had to get up a bit earlier and that it would be well over an hour before I would even find it. I love how you always buy me a bottle of my *favorite* water when you run out for diapers or some other baby-related item at Walgreens late at night. Or when you bring home chocolate for me "just because".

I love how we can have fun anywhere. I love that we both love spending as much time with the kids as humanly possible. I love that the best times we have are the ones where we're all together, just enjoying and loving and being. We don't need fancy vacations or excursions that cost thousands of dollars to create amazing memories. We just do it how we do it, and that's how we roll.

I love, love, love our popcorn dates. My favorite ones are in the summer when we can lounge about on the patio without bugs but with fresh air. I love that we've transitioned from a couple that used to love going out to a couple that loves staying home; as long as we're together, we're happy to enjoy some quality time. I love that our best dates are when we're both in pajamas and all of our babies are sleeping within (the proverbial) arm's reach. I love that a bowl of popcorn and a good beer is all it takes to cap off a nice day--instead of a sixty dollar dinner and snagging a babysitter, we have our own in-home dates and they're even better than the ones that came before them.

I love how you always take on the "pet responsibilities" (cleaning up accidents, hairball mayhem, scooping the litter and the like) even though I'm the one who is the chronic pet adopter. I love that you didn't bat an eye at spending close to $800 (that we didn't--and still don't--have as disposable cash!) on a scrawny stray cat that I fed religiously for almost a year prior to catching her. I love that you were a dog person before me, but are a cat person now (even though I know you love our dogs, too). I love that you don't mind cleaning the fish tanks and have replaced Bear's "Fishy" numerous times in the dark of the night so he wouldn't ever even realize that Fishy was swimming in the big tank in the sky.

I love that you never complain about my veg*n food preferences or try to persuade me into returning to my omnivorous ways. I love that you never ask or expect me to cook anything meat-based in our home, citing that you get enough of it when you're on shift anyway. I love that you've always been supportive, even when I buy insanely priced "cheese" or send us on a wild goose chase for oat milk/vanilla hemp milk/whatever.

I love that you encourage my desires for more tattoos and piercings, even though the money I would spend could be best spent a million other ways. I haven't acquired new work in a few years now, but I know that if I wanted to go tomorrow, you would happily support me and hand me the debit card on the way out the door. I love that you don't think I have "too many" or "too much" of anything body modification-related. Likewise, I love how you support my ever-changing hair color and the price tag that comes along with it.

I love it that you've never told me that I couldn't or shouldn't buy (insert item here). We both know I'm pretty simple and frugal, but when I do buy something for myself, you never concern yourself with the cost. I never have to "run" anything past you pre-purchase; I just have to purchase and tell you about it later. I love that you're the one who makes all the money, but you've never once referred to it as anything less than ours.

I love the way you listen to me drone on endlessly, let me take the first shower and never complain about the lack of hot water, unload the dishwasher without ever being asked, and try to lift me up when I'm having a blue day. I love that I can tell you anything about anything: my past, my present, my hopes for the future...you listen willingly and openly and never judge me for what I've said or done in my years before you (and in some cases, my years *with* you). I love that you check for all of our cats every night before bed or when we're leaving the house. I love that you're so careful about watching for the "runners". I love that you carted me all over god's green earth to find clove cigarettes, and that you love going for a drive as much as I love riding as the co-pilot of the car. I love that you love my parents and have a great relationship with them, and I love that you love my closest friends as much as I do. I love that you don't mind it that I absolutely HAVE to scream warnings to unknowing deer out the window of the car, and that you let me play the shit out of a single cd (John Mayer, Tori's Christmas album, and the like) with *almost* no complaint. I love that you make almost all the phone calls (for anything, really) because you know I hate to do it. I love that you're my soulmate, that you don't recycle cheesy lines used on exes with me, that you love night walks as much as I do. I love that you let me blast the A/C in the summer and crank the heat in the winter, and I love that you never tire of (well, almost never) of my need to rearrange the house every goddamn day (practically). I love you because of all this and more, and I'm so grateful for the past five amazing years...

I could go on and on (like I haven't already!) but instead
I simply remain
Your loving wifey xoxo