A letter to my workaholic husband

Dear workaholic husband,

No, it's not what you think, this isn't a letter that makes me look amazing and you look like a jerk. This is a thank you note, a love letter, a full on "brag about my husband" moment. And I'm taking that moment and running!

9 years ago when we got married, I would have never imagined our life as it is today. You couldn't work and I worked at a dead end job, bringing home what we thought was measly money to our 1 bedroom apartment with the fighting couple below us that threw each other's belongings off the balcony every weekend. Fast forward to life now in our 3 bedroom rented house with three kids only 18 and 16 months apart. I'm a stay at home mom and you are the sole provider. No, not at your dream job. Not even at a job you love! But everyday you get up and go. You glisten with sweat in the hot summer and freeze your fingers off in the long winter. You work until you you're told to go home, which is sometimes in time for dinner with your family and sometimes just in time for bed.   You climb on roofs and dig deep holes in the Missouri ground a.k.a. rocks. You speak with people that judge you based on your skin color. You are constantly evaluated, not on the quality of your work, but on the accent that comes out of your mouth.

And on your days off, when you could be sleeping, you do what needs to be done. Like donate your plasma so we can have a date night. Or mow the lawn. Or build the headboard from pallets that I really wanted. Or sometimes you do the dishes that I just don't want to do. Or homeschool our son so I can go to the zoo with my friend during a school day. Or listen to me complain that you're playing your video game too much, when really it's the first time you've sat down to relax all week.

Yet everyday, you get up, before the sun sometimes. And you never complain. You just go, and do your work and come home to me.

Let's talk about me. The stay at home mom that pretty much wants to give her kids away on the daily. The one that calls you and says "I just can't" and cries and asks to put you on speakerphone so you can talk our son down and tell him to obey his mother. The one that is *done* as soon as you walk in the door. The housewife that is constantly behind on the pile of laundry in the corner of our room. The one that mops the kitchen floor *about* twice a month. The one that forgets all too often to get meat out of the freezer, so dinner is either delayed or left overs, like 50% of the time!

You work your butt off and some days I don't even get off mine. And you never complain. As long as you get a hot shower, whatever food I scrounge up (or you scrounge up, sorry!) and me standing by your side, you are happy and fulfilled.

I don't deserve you. You are my gift from God.

So, I'm here to say...you are my dream come true. I couldn't have imagined this life 9 years ago, because I didn't know life and love like this even existed. I am so proud of you. I am so in love with you. And it's not the love I ever saw in the movies or read in the books. It's the hard-working, hard-fighting, bare it all, hash it out, you know all my secrets, you've helped me go to the bathroom, you've seen me at my darkest, you get up in the middle of the night to console our daughter with night terrors, you never yell back, you let me sleep in on your day off kind of love.

It doesn't matter that we don't have the biggest and best. It doesn't matter that we rent when we could have bought (maybe, back when we both worked with no kids and thought we had no money!). It doesn't matter that others might think we aren't successful. What matters is that we love, each other and our kids. It matters that we prioritize what is important to our family in this moment. It matters that we walk this path holding hands though hard times instead of yelling at each other in the lap of luxury.

You're a workaholic, because you're a family-aholic. And your family thanks you!

Love,
your lazy-aholic, thankful wife