I’m a whole lot of crazy

There’s this guy.  He lives in my house, and I kind of like him.  He’s always been just…a breath of fresh air for me.  He’s different, and I think that’s what changed things for me in high school.

Hubs and I started dating nearly a year after my last break up.  A break up that just…well, it wrecked me.  And it took a lot of effort from friends and family to help me put my pieces back together.  It wasn’t unknown that J had a crush on me.  All my friends (and his) had been telling me exactly that for years at that point.  But J was nice.  He was thoughtful and kind.  And apparently, I didn’t know how to appreciate that until my heart was shredded.

While he and I have grown up together over the last ten years, the basis of who he is hasn’t changed much at all.  He’s a man with a huge, kind and giving heart.  He’s wise.  And he’s patient.

I know my family is nodding their heads wildly at that last part (not that they won’t also agree that he is kind and wise).  It’s often said around my parents’ kitchen table that I married a saint.  I’m a whole lot of crazy–and he puts up with me so wonderfully.  He makes me a better person.

This year our marriage was put through the test.  Well a couple tests, really.  Looking back on it, it seems a little unfair that a couple who still considers themselves pretty newlywed to be put through a separation, job changes, a move and illness all in the same year.  We had a lot of adjustments to make.  And we really had to trust each other.  

In the last few months, as we’ve treaded through all of this medical stuff, I’ve learned something new about the man I’ve loved for the last ten years.  I learned about his ability to balance.  I learned about his grace.  I learned a lot about his priorities.  I’ve joked in the past that his life goes God, Football, Me, everything else (well, maybe Bailey beats me on some days–probably on the days she doesn’t eat his xbox controllers).  But that’s just it.  It’s only a joke.  Because that man puts me above almost everything else.  How do I know this?

His job is out of control during football season.  You and I both know this.  We’ve joked in the past that if and when we decide to have children–we need to make sure I’m no where NEAR due during football season–because he’d miss the birth.  That’s how wild his schedule gets.  

Every appointment.  Every tear and panic filled phone call.  Every scheduling mishap.  It’s all been met with the same response: It doesn’t matter when or where or what it is, I’ll be there.  I had two procedures the day before a game–he missed more than half a day of work without a single heavy sigh.  Scheduling my surgery has been kind of a nightmare (apparently everyone and their mother needs to have an operation before the end of the year–thank you insurance).  We’ve been given date after date, and each time I’ve tried to figure out what’s going on in J’s world during that time–wondering if it’s going to be difficult for him to get away.  Because it’s not just the operation.  I’m going to need him for a day or two.  And last night we were trying to figure that out at which point he just stopped the entire conversation: you’re having surgery.  It doesn’t matter what my schedule is.  I’ll be there.   

That says a lot about the man I married.  It says a lot of about the men my husband works FOR and with.  

And it tells me I’m loved…unconditionally.