My man.

(This is Rod, standing across the river from Victoria Falls, one of the seven natural wonders of the world, at floodstage. One of my favorite pics and favorite moments of all time. He was SCREAMING and laughing.)




Ok. Here's a shameless plug for my man.

I married the best man I know. He's the perfect mate for me. Sweet Rodrick knows how to be the perfect blend of stubborn and sensitive... he has put up with alot from this emotional wife of his... through many years of trying to get pregnant, weight loss and weight gain, hormonal fluctuations, missing mental functions, impatience, impulsiveness, and countless other lovely imperfections I have brought to the table in these 14 years of marriage. This man works harder than any man I know. He's constantly mowing something, repairing something, bettering something, and yes (sometimes) breaking something, all to make our home function well.

Thanks to this man, I never have to worry about my car not running correctly, my tires needing to be replaced, the air conditioning not being cold enough, or creepies trying to get me in the night. He's strong, capable, and quick. Thanks to him, I have never paid a bill, filed our taxes, or balanced our checkbook. He doesn't complain if my hair's too short or too big. I often fall asleep with his hand on my back, or wake up in the night to hear him say, "I sure do appreciate you, babe," as he turns over. He never winces at a new outfit I bought that's not his favorite color, listens when I have dump my deepest and most reserved thoughts on him, and tolerates chick flicks with a smile on his face. He automatically finds my hand when we're walking across a road, through a parking lot, or in a crowd of people... an instant defense to protect his woman. When I told him I was driving through the neighborhood to find our stolen swingset, even if it meant knocking on doors and getting back what's mine, he asked me to stay home and let him do it... and when I chose to go anyway, he chuckled instead of chewing me out.

And then there's his little girl. Abi's poor husband... the bar has been set so high. I have a feeling that if she's honest, she will always measure him by her daddy's love and skill set. But what a good ruler to measure by. Rodrick romances Abi every day with his words. He's constantly affectionate. She gets his undivided attention on demand... all she has to do is say, "Daddy?" and he stops, drops, and rolls. He dates her. He knows she takes extra butter on her popcorn. He makes little silver dollar pancakes for her when she requests (almost daily), and he calls her "My Sweet" instead of Abi 90% of the time. She blushes when he brags on how pretty she is, and he's long-suffering through her "ovarian spasms," when she's crying for no reason and every reason all at the same time. He brought her a dozen long stemmed pink roses for their first date. He kisses me in front of her and brags on my cooking, so she'll look for a man who will do the same one day.

Is he perfect? Nope. He leaves the dish rag in the sink next to egg shells. He is hard headed. He has to be dying to go to a doctor. He can be a tad messy. He's a burly manly man who often does gross things and eats gross things. He frustrates me, makes me mad, and irritates me.

But let me tell you. This man was hand-crafted by the Master Craftsman for me. I'd marry him again today, tomorrow, and the next day... and over and over again. He's my pick. The love of my life. The best friend I have ever had and will ever have.

Why the plug for Rodrick today? What does this post have to do with parenting?

Everything.

All I have, I owe to our union. He's the other half of me. When I fail as a parent, he finds a way to succeed. He backs me up, gives me confidence, and stands by my decisions as though they are his own. Could I parent without him? Sure. But the ride sure is sweeter with he and I in partnership. And I just figured today was as good a day as any to broadcast to the world how good he is. Mamas, maybe you need to do a little broadcasting for your man. And men, maybe you need to give her something to broadcast!

Am I saying we're perfect, I'm perfect, he's perfect? HAHAHAHA... funny!!!! *regaining composure* Um, no. But what I have in my husband I would not trade for anyone else's version of perfection.

I love you, Rodrick. I always have. I always will. xox