Love

It's no secret that Johnny drives me absolutely crazy much of the time.  Sometimes to the point that I wonder what exactly drew us to one another in the beginning.

When I'm exhausted and in the middle of doing my 57th chore of the night & he's lounging on the couch watching reruns of the Sopranos I want to scream.  And kick his butt.  When I come down from putting Colby to bed (an ordeal that can last an hour sometimes after bath & stories) and he's sitting on the computer playing with ESPN.com and there is a sink of bottles to be washed I want to kick his butt. When the girls are ready to eat their last feed of the night and he's begging to go to bed instead of helpinh I want to kick his butt.  I think you get the idea.

So, as a result we bicker & tease a bit.  Sometimes we take it well.  Other times, when I'm exhausted and overwhelmed and just need a hand but don't think I should have to ask... well, then it turns into a fight usually.  And I'm a bad fighter because I drag in stupid old annoyances that aren't even related to the issue at hand.  I stomp off.  I refuse to admit I'm wrong.  I'm stubborn.

And sometimes my mind wanders and I find myself convincing my mind that I could totally handle everything on my own.  That I could skip town with the kids and be totally fine because he doesn't help much.  And I've let those thoughts eat away at me & build up.  Until the point that I have felt like I am perfect & he's just.. not.

But perspective comes from some strange places sometimes.

I was watching Downsized on WE tv the other day.  Incase you've never heard of it, it's a reality tv show and the premise involves a blended family with 7 kids which was hit hard during the recession.  They had to face foreclosure and bankruptcy and bad choices in general.  The show follows their efforts to get back on their feet.

Anyways, in a recent episode the parents were arguing about some issue or another & the younger 10 year old daughter confided that she was nervous about her mom & step dad getting a divorce.  So the little girl was asking her mom about her relationship with her biological dad and why they got divorced and why the new marriage was different and so on and so forth.

And the mom answered simply that things were different because she never once questioned if Todd (husband #2) loved her.  She just knew that he did unconditionally.

And this got me thinking about me & Johnny.  Looking past the nights where he doesn't come to bed because he's watching football.  And past the unwashed bottles and unlaundered bottles.  Past the lazy nights on the couch & three fantasy football teams.  Past the annoyances that have plagued me over the past 5 years.

And I realized that I have it good.  Because when I take stock... when I really step back and think... there is not an ounce in my body that questions if Johnny loves me.  Because I know that, for some stupid reason, he does 100%.  And that's something I've never doubted nor have ever had to doubt.  I don't always get it because I KNOW I can be a pain & stubborn & hold ridiculously high standards.

I might have to spell it out for him & ask for exactly what I need, but he would do absolutely anything for me & I know that. I could ask him to wash all the bottles every night and he would.  I could ask him to do all the laundry & he would.  I realize it's just not something that he might think of on his own.  And I've always resented that, but it doesn't matter.

I'm pretty lucky.

And with that in mind, the past few days I've been trying to be better for him.  The bottles are still unwashed and he's still watching tv (though he finished the Soprano reruns this weekend), but in the end, it doesn't matter.  Because I know that he's there for me unconditionally & forever.

Because I've never questioned that he loves me.

Just that he knows how to wash a bottle...