Because sometimes they need a little reminder
So its been a little monotonous around here for the past couple of weeks.
We get up, the hubs goes to work, I clean the house (somebody sneaks in every night and dirties all my dishes, I swear) and play with Toots or go out on a few errands, the hubs comes home, we eat, you get the idea.
Same ol, same ol day in day out.
Which is kind of fine for me and Toots because it provides a bit of structure to the day and I think a (almost) 4 year old still needs a fair bit of structure.
But for the poor husband ... not so much.
I want more for him. I want him to feel loved and appreciated. I want him to know that I still love him for all the reasons I loved him and married him fahumina years ago.
Now I know there are many ways to show him how much he means to me. There are plenty on the "kiss your husband everyday" bandwagon which is lovely, but I do that every single day, always have.
There are also plenty of posts encouraging us to sleep with our poor neglected husbands every night for a whole week (seriously, just the one). Again, a great idea, but my husband would probably just think I'd got into the cosmo again and he just happened to be lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time.
I tell him I love him all the time. I tell him every morning and every night. The thing is I also brush my teeth and moisturise every morning and every night so there's a fair wee chance he has it in his head that it's just part of my routine.
I could pay him more attention, cook him beautiful meals, basically I could hint to the fact that he's still very important to me, but really, come on now. If he was any good at picking up on subtle hints I wouldn't count a waffle iron and model Dodge Viper among my collection of birthday presents, would I?
Husband I love you dearly, but it really isn't the same thing. Nor was it a "bit of fun". It sits there, tucked in under bed mocking me. It goes, "na na na na naaaa" every bloody time I reach under there to retrieve a misplaced sock or the super duper bouncy ball you kindly gave the daughter.
The waffle iron does not mock. The waffle iron knows better. The waffle iron lives in fear of the day I may try to use its royal wafflyness. The waffle iron knows I could take it in a fight.
Anyway, yes, the poor neglected husband.
You need to tell them, sit them down, turn off the TV (you might want to switch off the computer, tweeting about the whole thing might take something away from moment) and tell them.
I did and he's been strutting around here like cock of the walk for the last few days. It really is an amazing transformation.
I asked him first, if he knew why I loved him and if he knew, I mean really knew, that I still love him and how much I appreciate him.
I told him how much he means to me. I told him that I love how confident he is, that he's always in complete control of every situation. He never second guesses himself, once he makes a decision (and let me tell you it only takes him milliseconds) he sticks with it and makes it work.
I love the way he carries himself, everyone assumes he's the boss (whereas his boss is a weedy little streak of a man with girlish hands, ahem).
I love that he is such a perfectionist. He always gets the job done and then some and it's perfect. I love that I asked him for a utensil rack which comfortably holds up two cast iron frying pans.
I spent a good hour telling him everything I love about him and I could have went on a lot longer.
Then you can kiss him or....whatever.
And you can tell him why you want to ... whatever... while you're at it (just don't mention if you did get into the cosmo again).
And it doesn't hurt to take a few seconds to cop a feel, every time he happens to pass by.
Because have I mentioned, he's walking around here like he's the King.
And he is.