Someone posted part of this quote on facebook today - and it really spoke to me. It's true. It defines the love that Wilo and I share. We've been together for a very long time. We've had our ups and downs, wins and losses, mistakes small and great. But here we are, expecting our fourth baby and we are still together.
It has not been easy for us. We have struggled in every way imaginable. We did not have a fairytale romance like the movies. We've had to work at this, and at times it has been very trying. We both are so different , and over the years I have said that I didn't really marry my dream guy. I don't think that women should specifically look for a dream guy with a list of unattainable qualities...they will ultimately be let down.
But, here, almost 11 years later, I want to tell you...Wil is most definitely my dream guy.
You know why?
He works his butt off supporting a family of five, soon to be six. He loves me even though I sound like I'm in pain rolling over in bed. He loves my love for the internet. He corrects all the wrong words to songs that I sing. He lets me sing - even though I am awful at it! He doesn't push his far out liberal views on me and has toned down his hate of my conservative ones. He loves Jesus and has his own personal relationship with him. He doesn't hold my hair back when I'm puking because he knows I'd rather just be left alone and that I think that's gross. He knows I'd rather be sober than drink a Budlight. He can tell when I'm feeling faint and is quick to make me lay down and grab me a glass of water. He thinks I'm sexy when my belly is freaking huge. He finds me attractive as a size 9 or a size 18. He will ride his phatty bike 20mi if it means getting to work. He will laugh at my dorky, dorky jokes. He will kiss me when I'm rocking the dirty hippy look. He will go get me reesce cups at 3am. He loves our children, and they love him. He shakes his head and laughs when I start to go off the deep end, and stomp my feet and jump up and down like a three year old, 9 months pregnant. He will call to apologize when clearly, I am the one being irrational. He deals with my messes. He doesn't totally understand my weird social anxiety but he doesn't push me when I'm having those moments. He doesn't freak out when I let a stray animal into our home, even though he knows that I will eventually regret it and complain about it. He colors my hair if I need help with the back, and he ruins my eyebrows. He's quick to explain nearly every single movie quote there is because he knows I don't get it if he doesn't. He reads a lot and always is up to date on any current topic. He's quick to "break it down" for me, should the need arise. He calls me snobby when I refuse to admit that I am being one. He changes diapers and feeds babies. He's the designated toilet fixer, and garbage disposal unclogger. He's "he who finds things" in a house where I am "She who loses them". He is the only who can be trusted to not spill a drink somewhere, sometime in the house. He reads my blogs. He has way to many qualities to be defined. He is my lobster.
He is my Wilo.
We are and forever will be, one tree.
Thank you for your patience with me over the past ten years. You are such an instrumental and vital part of my life, the lives of our children, and the life of this baby. Thank you for giving it all to me.
I love and appreciate you so incredibly much, Wil. I do not tell you enough.