Sunday, October 05, 2008
I've had a lot of hard days lately. Sometimes it's the kids. Sometimes it's myself. But almost always at the end of the day the thought of one more day is almost more than I can bear. By the time Mark gets home from work I'm pretty miserable. I'm tired. I'm exhausted. I'm angry and bitter and resentful. I'm mad and frustrated and overwhelmed. I'm usually dirty and frazzled and smelly. The last thing I want to do is smile and wrap my arms around Mark and kiss him like a good wife would do. Afterall, he did this to me. Okay, okay. . . we did it together, but he helped and I'm really good at blaming him for turning me into a stay-at-home mother of six. But everyday when Mark comes home you know what he does? He saves me. . . from all of it. He doesn't sit on the couch and demand I bring him his slippers and a newspaper. He doesn't shout at me for the fact that his dinner is cold and mushy or worse, all eaten up. It doesn't matter if the kids are a mess or the house is a disaster. Nope. The first thing he does is rescue me. And he knows just what to do everytime. Sometimes he takes the kids away. Sometimes he cleans up the kitchen. Every once in awile he takes over dinner or piano practice. But usually all he has to do is touch me--just wrap his arms around me and kiss me. Or rub my shoulders. And the bad day melts away. And everything that was weighing me down or dragging me under all disappears. And it doesn't matter how hellish the day has been, when Mark comes home it feels like heaven again. I'm not sure what I did to deserve something so wonderful as Mark but whatever it was, I'm glad I did it. And I hope I get to keep him for a really long time. I love you Mark--this one's for you because Rascal Flatts says it all better than I ever could.
posted by Shana # 11:04 PM 
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