I was uninspired to write a post commemorating my wedding anniversary this year. Nothing against my beloved on our special day; the words just weren’t coming to me. Which sucked, because I’ve done an anniversary post for the past 2 years that I’ve been blogging.
Then Tuesday happened.
I had serious issues with Tuesday.
A stomach ache.
Cranky, rude demands for their new favorite movie. And again after watching it once.
Three kids taking off in two different directions on a total walk fail.
Attempted picnic lunches uneaten.
Naptimes fought (but luckily won by me!).
Battles over a damn rubber ducky that is supposed to be their baby sister’s.
I was DONE.
But then there was a surprise at the door as we played outside in the kiddie pool — a daddy walking through the door, 45 minutes earlier than usual. He knew I wasn’t feeling well and had caught wind of some of our crankies on the phone.
Little girls jumped for joy.
Laughter was shared.
Bad moods were lifted.
Love and patience was doled out in droves.
He relieved me of my duties, played with his kids, and cooked up a mean frozen pizza with three little ones under his feet.
He made me feel relief, protection, love.
Despite my shirt stained with God knows what, my same old athletic shorts, and my disheveled ponytail, he told me I was beautiful. And he meant it.
Happy anniversary to my husband, best friend, and father to my beautiful children. I fear that no words that I write here can truly express how much I appreciate your love, affection, support, and companionship.