My husband doesn’t read me. I don’t honestly think he has seen my blog at all. I tease him about it sometimes. Tell him I’m talking about him. Tell him I’m telling stories and that he’d never know it because he doesn’t read me. It doesn’t really bother me though. I thought it would. Then I realized that he doesn’t need to read my thoughts in a blog because he already knows them. He knows everything about me.
We already share so much. We work together on the books. Every event, every discount, every interview, every decision (etc..) we do it all side by side. The books are a part of us. We won an award (with I Love the Changing Seasons). Something we created together. Pretty awesome.
Talk about things created together. While it is true that our son was two years old when we started dating Clark is his father through and through. From the first moment he just stepped into the roll of father figure. I still look back and remember the moments over the years. The first time my boy said I want Clark to tuck me in or when he quietly asked Can I call you Dad now? They are so much alike. And then there’s our little girl. So much like the two of us it’s actually kind of terrifying. He got up with me for all the middle of the night feedings and he never scoffed at changing a diaper. He fretted over her. I’ll never forget the panicked expression on his face when she took her first tumble off the couch or the look of pride every time he introduced her to someone new.
And watching him with those two every day puts a smile on my face. Listening to him telling stories or bad dad jokes while they roll their eyes (but you can tell they’re enjoying it anyways). They play their apps together and they all become so animated when they’re discussing it that you can feel the room vibrating with excitement. I love watching him help our daughter fry a bologna sandwich or when he’s outside doing yard work with our son. He stays involved with our kids.
We’ve got kids for that, right? Oh if only our kids were that efficient. They have their chores. Those things they must accomplish if they desire the password for the day. Chores are important. But we don’t expect the kids to do them all. We show them that everyone does their fair share. He even does some of the cooking.
When we started dating he could cook a few things. Mostly skillet things that could also be done over a campfire. He still rocks out an awesome breakfast whether over fire or on the stove. Early in our relationship he set fire to a pot of boiling water and a bag of microwave popcorn all in the same day.
Husband in the Kitchen
Cooking brings me peace. My kitchen is my sanctuary. I couldn’t have him burning food, so when we got our first place together I started having him help me in the kitchen. This actually turned out to have three really great benefits.
- I get a sous chef to help me with chopping, prepping, stirring, etc… whenever I need one
- He learned how to cook and now can do so whenever I don’t want to
- We developed a rhythm in the kitchen
That last one is the best. There’s a romance to it. Sometimes it’s just the way we flow together in the kitchen never missing a beat. Similar to Cam and Gloria in Modern Family practically dancing together as they prepared dinner. That flow, that smooth easy rhythm in the kitchen can be so intimate. Like when I’m cooking and he just comes up behind me and slips his arms around me and we sway to the stir. Or when he’s heading to grab something out of the fridge and slaps my behind on his way past. Every kiss, every touch, every time we brush up against each other helps to keep us connected.
I’m an introvert. I live inside my head. I’m not much for starting a conversation. I’d probably never come out if no one made me. He makes me. Throughout the day he checks in with me. Sometimes he blurts out some random silliness. He listens to me. We talk about everything. We laugh together. He holds me when I cry. Sometimes he makes me laugh so hard I cry. Every night we snuggle up together and talk while we cuddle. We talk about the day, we talk about our children, we discuss any plans for tomorrow. Whatever the topic we are reconnecting.
So yeah, it’s okay if he doesn’t want to read my blog. It actually isn’t bothering me at all. Because he already knows me so well. But he seems a little nervous. As I wrote this he commented that I was writing stories about him again. I told him if he was worried he should read my blog. He went back to whatever he was doing, and I continued to write (about him).