We have a tradition of not doing anything "special" on holidays so they don't feel like duties, but he did actually plan a family outing and took us to The Salt Lick.
I don't know whether you've ever been to The Salt Lick, but there's typically a two-hour wait. We got there 10 minutes before they opened at 11, and we got right in (after playing on campus a bit; it is beautiful! There are even a couple of playgrounds for the kiddies) and had a magnificent feast, then were done (stuffffed) by noon!
And while that's all well and good, I wanted most to share this (understand, I'd like to share more, but the baby's only temporarily asleep in his car seat and I'm boiling eggs hoping to make them deviled soon and we need to leave for a group lunch in half an hour, so... life). It's something I've realized over the past few months, and it's the thing I appreciate most about my husband and our life together:
James loves me. He loves all of me. He loves my flaws (or tries to) and quirks and everything about me. That might be a "duh" thing for some people, but I can honestly tell you that, except for my parents, I have never had someone who absolutely and unconditionally adored me. I can't be too loud or too big or too much or too passionate about stupid things. I can't embarrass James. I never feel self-conscious around him. He makes me know I'm loved all of the time no matter what.
And he's seen me at my worst, with the back injury and again in the past few months when I've reached the end of my rope parenting a newborn. He's seen me at my worst and still looks at me like I'm the best. All of the time.
I don't worry that my skirt is too bright or weird or age-inappropriate. I am not concerned that I haven't managed to shower in two days when he leans in and rubs my leg. I'm not self-conscious about the fact that I just a few minutes ago was talking about trying to eat less to get ready for weaning but now I'm shoving a Tiffwich into my face... probably because he's the one who bought it for me! I don't feel embarrassed when I yell something in public before I really think about what's going on. Or if I get so excited that I run or skip or dance on the sidewalk.
In short, I am allowed to be me. Without fear.
Don't get me wrong: James will tell me the truth. Some of the painful things he's said to me (and, man, after two years, they're very few and far between) include: "Honey, I'd love to make you happy right now, but you're being completely irrational" and "No, sweetie, you're not a bitch. You're just bitchy sometimes." And he was right both times. The first one was harder to hear. I can't argue with the second one. Well, I really couldn't with the first, either; I wanted two things that were mutually exclusive.
BUT... He loves me. I know that he does. I don't fear losing him. I don't worry about alienating him. And I DO NOT take that for granted. The security that comes with the absolute surety that I am cared for and appreciated actually makes me MORE desirous to repay him with all of my heart and all of my life.
I love my James. I cannot wait to see what the next two years bring. Then the next four. Then eight. Then 16. (I could go on all day; he's been playing a lot of 2048 lately, so I have the multiples down pretty good.) <3
Shwate!
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