Friday, 1 February 2013

I love my husband more for loving my kids

After those first few years together when everything is new and wonderful and heart-stoppingly exciting about your love the feelings do change a little bit; your love grows deeper and richer but there's a little less of the heart-catching-in-your-throat every time he crosses your mind, wanting to jump his bones every time he walks in a room, hanging on his every word with bated breath. (Although I'm lucky enough to still feel that way about my man most of the time!) Life gets in the way and the mundanity of the day-to-day takes over - work stuff, school stuff, sleepless nights with baby, carting the kids to practice and games and swimming lessons and playdates, laundry, dishes, groceries, running errands, paying bills, the endless all-consuming needs of the children.

My husband and I sort of fast-forwarded through alone time to the family time part - when we met and fell in love I already had a two-year-old and a three-year-old. Instant family. We never really had that honeymoon stage where we had time to just revel in each other's company and plan out our life and future together. Our life and future were already here.

But I think it's partly this that makes me keep falling ever deeper in love with my amazing husband. He's funny and sexy and smart, passionate about his interests and incredibly thoughtful and caring, and my very best friend in the entire world - but none of that would have mattered if he didn't love my kids. And he does. He is an amazing father figure for all three of our boys - they're "our boys," not two stepsons and a son to him. And they just worship him.

Nothing fills my heart more than when I see my husband holding our son, nuzzling his stubbly chin into the folds of soft skin on Baby's chubby neck. Or when he snuggles up with Middle Child on the couch when we're settling in to watch a movie. Or when he comes home from work and our oldest flings himself across the room and into his arms. Or when all three children leap into our bed on a weekend morning and crawl all over us both for snuggles and hugs and kisses.

Middle Child had his soccer practice and game tonight. My husband, for the second season in a row, is the team coach. Every week my heart fills up as I watch him working with those kids. My husband - who has never taught, tutored, coached, or worked with kids in any manner - organizing and encouraging and teaching a dozen little boys. My husband - who never played soccer until the boys started showing such an interest a few years ago - running drills and teaching strategy and refereeing games. All because our boy asked him to, and my husband loves our boy.

And every time I have one of those moments when I realize how much my husband and my boys love each other, it makes me fall even more in love with him.

I'm a pretty lucky girl.

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