Beware warm-fuzzies, all ye who enter.
I am in the mood this morning to write about my husband. I frequently have these rather random warm-fuzzy fits but I don't always write about them at the time. I think I used to write a lot more "Oh I love him so" entries about Calvin, back in the days of the full-fledged journal. I guess I started figuring that it's all been said already. How my heart still patters when I look at his picture or hear him come through the front door. How I love to hear him laughing from somewhere in the house. How he calls me a bunch of times each day just because he feels the same need that I do to touch base when we're not physically together. How I just need to have my hands on him - anywhere on him - because his skin just calls to me.
You know, the stuff that bears repeating.
I don't know how many married couples are still in love, years into their marriage. They love one another, yes, but being in love is somewhat different. After five years of marriage and coming up on ten years of togetherness, the fact that I still enjoy his company every bit, if not more, than I did in the first months of our relationship; well, I think that's a pretty fantastic thing to be able to say. Calvin is absolutely and unequivocally my best friend, and there is no one else on the planet with whom I'd rather spend all of my time.
I've said it a bunch of times already, but I continue to marvel at his work ethic. He has a hard, sometimes physically demanding, always mentally challenging job. He has become the go-to guy at every company he's worked for, to solve and achieve and fix and figure out and negotiate and soothe ruffled customers. His sense of responsibility is staggering - so much so that I wish he'd shift some of that onto me, because he is NOT the ultimate provider of happiness and security, but he feels like he is. He carries that sense of responsibility with him to work, and is never one to say, "It's not my job." I LOVE that about him, because I hate that deflection of responsibility by certain people that I have and do work with.
Being married to Calvin is also a great responsibility, because he expects the same 110% effort that he gives. Sometimes I make it, sometimes I don't. I do try my best to take care of all the "wifely" things - I'm not offended by gender-defined "roles" in marriage and in the household. He's the "man" so he does the fixing and the building (and the painting and the wiring and the plumbing and the installation of ceiling fans). I'm the "woman" so I do most of the cooking, cleaning (though lately we've been back on the Friday/Saturday cleaning routine that we do together), bill paying, and life administration. The next time I feel like complaining about our division of labor, I would do well to remind myself of this:
This is a photograph taken back when we were remodeling the house in '00. Calvin refinished all of the kitchen cabinets, all by himself. He also did all of the interior and exterior painting, all of the fixture/light/ceiling fan installations, replaced/installed cabinets/toilets/sinks/faucets/fixtures in three bathrooms, and about fifty other labor-intensive tasks. Since the major remodel, he has also finished the garage, epoxied the patio, installed and wired the hot tub, and done a huge number of repair projects, both minor and major.
He is also the designated Bee Fucker Upper Mother Fucker.
So if I fuss because I don't feel like doing the laundry, I just remind myself that it could be much, much worse.
There are very few things that I don't love about Calvin. Which is not to say that we don't have our moments of strife. Those moments rarely rise above general annoyance or nit-picking. I think I can count on one hand the number of (figurative) knock-down drag-out fights we've had. And I know I can't recall the cause for most of those. The areas in which Calvin and I are the same (morals, sense of right and wrong, humor, values) more than compensates for the areas in which we are different. And even there, usually the differences work to smooth the way for our relationship. He's impatient, I'm patient. He's impulsive, I'm a planner. He's got a temper, I'm not easily provoked at all. He's complicated, I'm pretty simple. He stands on principle, I don't do that often enough. He stands up for me (or gets me to stand up for myself) when I would let someones treatment of me slide.
He's my perfect puzzle piece, and I like to think that I'm his. I couldn't and don't want to imagine my life without him. I'm more me with him than I am without him. He doesn't alter or change my identity, he enhances it.
Plus, he's really, really HOT.
I don't know, do you think I've adequately expressed how I feel about this man? I'll keep trying, regardless.
You know, the stuff that bears repeating.
I don't know how many married couples are still in love, years into their marriage. They love one another, yes, but being in love is somewhat different. After five years of marriage and coming up on ten years of togetherness, the fact that I still enjoy his company every bit, if not more, than I did in the first months of our relationship; well, I think that's a pretty fantastic thing to be able to say. Calvin is absolutely and unequivocally my best friend, and there is no one else on the planet with whom I'd rather spend all of my time.
I've said it a bunch of times already, but I continue to marvel at his work ethic. He has a hard, sometimes physically demanding, always mentally challenging job. He has become the go-to guy at every company he's worked for, to solve and achieve and fix and figure out and negotiate and soothe ruffled customers. His sense of responsibility is staggering - so much so that I wish he'd shift some of that onto me, because he is NOT the ultimate provider of happiness and security, but he feels like he is. He carries that sense of responsibility with him to work, and is never one to say, "It's not my job." I LOVE that about him, because I hate that deflection of responsibility by certain people that I have and do work with.
Being married to Calvin is also a great responsibility, because he expects the same 110% effort that he gives. Sometimes I make it, sometimes I don't. I do try my best to take care of all the "wifely" things - I'm not offended by gender-defined "roles" in marriage and in the household. He's the "man" so he does the fixing and the building (and the painting and the wiring and the plumbing and the installation of ceiling fans). I'm the "woman" so I do most of the cooking, cleaning (though lately we've been back on the Friday/Saturday cleaning routine that we do together), bill paying, and life administration. The next time I feel like complaining about our division of labor, I would do well to remind myself of this:
This is a photograph taken back when we were remodeling the house in '00. Calvin refinished all of the kitchen cabinets, all by himself. He also did all of the interior and exterior painting, all of the fixture/light/ceiling fan installations, replaced/installed cabinets/toilets/sinks/faucets/fixtures in three bathrooms, and about fifty other labor-intensive tasks. Since the major remodel, he has also finished the garage, epoxied the patio, installed and wired the hot tub, and done a huge number of repair projects, both minor and major.
He is also the designated Bee Fucker Upper Mother Fucker.
So if I fuss because I don't feel like doing the laundry, I just remind myself that it could be much, much worse.
There are very few things that I don't love about Calvin. Which is not to say that we don't have our moments of strife. Those moments rarely rise above general annoyance or nit-picking. I think I can count on one hand the number of (figurative) knock-down drag-out fights we've had. And I know I can't recall the cause for most of those. The areas in which Calvin and I are the same (morals, sense of right and wrong, humor, values) more than compensates for the areas in which we are different. And even there, usually the differences work to smooth the way for our relationship. He's impatient, I'm patient. He's impulsive, I'm a planner. He's got a temper, I'm not easily provoked at all. He's complicated, I'm pretty simple. He stands on principle, I don't do that often enough. He stands up for me (or gets me to stand up for myself) when I would let someones treatment of me slide.
He's my perfect puzzle piece, and I like to think that I'm his. I couldn't and don't want to imagine my life without him. I'm more me with him than I am without him. He doesn't alter or change my identity, he enhances it.
Plus, he's really, really HOT.
I don't know, do you think I've adequately expressed how I feel about this man? I'll keep trying, regardless.
Labels: Calvin
Never stop! I think we women fail to realize/forget how sensitive men are.
Posted by
Julie |
10:35 AM