1. He supports my writing and blogging. All it took for my writing and blogging to take off was for Steve to read something I wrote, then say, “I think you should write a book.” He even calls my blog “work,” even though I don’t make a penny from it. He sees potential in my writing.
I started writing a book a year and a half ago when he said that, but got 10,000 words in and got overwhelmed with everything else, namely, the adoption of our daughter and my blog. But I really enjoy blogging and the instant gratification it delivers. So, I’m okay with taking a break from the book. Plus, it’s not even a humor book, it’s all serious and crap.
2. He’s the mack daddy of daddies. He plays with the kids, he reads to them, and he talks to them. Then he turns around and does the dishes. Sometimes he makes me look bad because he’s so stinking good and I’m just huddled up in a corner tweeting.
3. He takes one for the team. In other words, the man has been hit in the groin so many times by our kids it is beyond me how he’s even still walking upright. Why he doesn’t where a cup when he’s wrestling with the kids or even just having a nice one-on-one conversation, mystifies me.
4. He’s encouraging. God knew what he was doing when he put us together. I don’t know of anyone who needs encouragement more than me. My motto is “When the going gets tough, curl up in a chair with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Therapy and verbally abuse yourself.” Usually, it only takes a few sentences from Steve to pull me out of my choco-funk.
5. He works hard for the money. He works haaaaard for it, honey. Well, not that hard, Donna Summer. But, he does provide for our family, enough to support my shopping binges at Goodwill once a month.
6. He’s hilarious. He makes me laugh and he’s okay with me making fun of him. Heck, he let me make this…
and share it around the internet.
7. You know he’s a follower of Jesus, not by his words, but by his actions. He doesn’t preach it; he lives it. He treats all people with respect and kindness. Unless they’re idiots. Just kidding. He treats idiots kindly too.
8. He takes care of all the bills and crap. He’s really good at math. He just reminded me that he got 750 on his math SATs. Whatever. The maximum score in math is 800 (or at least it was in 1980-something). So, he’s smart. His verbal score made up for it though. I think he got 400 on that part. You might recall that I got a whopping 850 total on my SATs. We don’t need to discuss that right now though.
9. He complements me. Not compliment. Although, he does that too. But, complement, as in we fit together. The areas where I struggle, he seems to come out stronger, while the areas where he struggles, I come out stronger. We see this in our parenting all the time. I “get” our eight-year-old. I can predict how he’s going to respond to things and I can calmly deal with his struggles. Steve can’t. But he “gets” our seven-year old, whereas, I want to pull my hair out over my struggles with him. Nobody “gets” our three-year-old.
10. I asked my eight-year-old to tell me how he thinks his dad his awesome. His answer, “Well, he let me have candy when Autumn [his sister] went poop on the potty.” Apparently, when one of us poops, the whole family gets to celebrate!
When I asked my seven-year-old how dad is awesome, he said, “I don’t know. He makes noodles?” And there you have it.