I know I don’t say it enough — I would not be able to function without my husband.
Babies change things, man. All the little things I used to do without thinking or without help are all of a sudden a two-person job.
Yes, Gus and I are home alone all day. I manage to feed us, and clean us (well, at least one of us), and dress us. I try to get us to the grocery store each week. I occasionally pay attention to the dogs, even though they drive me insane.
But the dishwasher isn’t emptied. The laundry isn’t done. I can’t remember the last time I ran the vacuum. If it were solely up to me, the dogs would be starving by now.
Mike washes dishes. He empties and reloads the dishwasher. He carries dirty laundry downstairs and clean laundry back up. He changes diapers. He helps with bath time. He takes care of the dogs. He takes out the trash and recycling. He brings me water and snacks when Gus goes on marathon eating sprees. He lets me watch the Olympics for hours even though he hates figure skating.
He shoveled snow every day for what felt like a week. He finds new dairy-free snacks for me so I don’t get bored. He calls every night on his way home to see if I need anything from the store, or if he can pick up dinner. The man bought me a case of thin mints.
And I know he thinks he’s not doing enough to help me.
Without him, I’d be hungry and dehydrated. And my house would be a mess. And I’d still be snowed in. And my dogs would be abandoned in the forest behind my house. And I’d have to get a job and wear real clothes every day.
I love him, and his face and his beard and he’s my BFF.
And yes, dear, bring home dinner.