Our Lighthouse

I am married to the absolute best man in the world, and the hands down best father. Often, we find ourselves passing like ships in the night, as I go to bed most nights just before he wakes up. We don’t always have the time, between raising two little boys and working opposite full time schedules, to connect and tell each other how much we care. But this man shows he cares in everything he does. I may not get roses on Valentine’s Day, but he knows I wouldn’t want them. He does so much more than flowers. 

Take today, for instance. This man got up early this morning about 1:30am. He went to work in the hot summer weather today, a physically demanding job that he enjoys but ensures he earns every cent of his paycheck. He worked his normal day, (never once complaining) in the hot summer weather, then walked in the door just before I was getting ready for work. The kids are always so excited when Dad comes home, and they run to him squealing “Dad! I need to show you something!” and “Dad, come play with me!” He always does, even when he is tired.

After throwing his work stuff on the counter, he turned to them today and asked “Hey, you guys wanna go to the zoo?” Okay, so let’s stop there and that would be enough. Guess what? I barely do anything after a long day of work, let alone offer to take our kids to the zoo in the 90 degree weather. The kids excitedly verbalized their approval of this suggestion, and I helped to get some sunscreen and snacks ready for them to get out the door. We smooched and they left, only gone for a few hours, to try and tire out our rambunctious dudes. It should not be necessary to say to any parents reading that tiring them out also tires us out. And yet, they went.

group of orangutan

Photo by Aldo Picaso on Pexels.com

As a direct result of Dave taking the kiddos to the zoo, I got to take a long shower, sit outside and get some sun on the patio, and leisurely sip an actually hot (and not microwaved several times) coffee in silence before starting work. He would get no such break today. Davy Doo shipped something for me at the post office, took the kids to the zoo, came home, made them dinner, made me dinner (I work from home), gave one a haircut and bath, potty trained, prepared night time snacks, bedtime routine with the little guy, and cleaned up some cat puke before crawling exhaustedly into bed at 8pm. To recap, that is 1:30am to 8pm, no breaks, no complaints, only minimal help. Sure, maybe he got to watch a quick TV show or something, but I doubt he heard much of it in between our loud boys craving his attention constantly. That is 18.5 hours straight of work or childcare. He does this almost everyday, folks, with a couple days of sleeping in a few extra hours.

Oh sure, I am still the master scheduler for the family, the brain, the center that plans everything and gets us all organized. I do a lot each day, too. But he is the strength, the gusto, the “doing” of our family. He loves each of us despite our annoyances, and the boys and I… well, we have many! He is silly, hilarious, kind, smart, generous, and sexy as hell. He is also sleep-deprived, occasionally crabby, and sometimes a loner. Nevertheless, he shows up for us. Every. Darn. Day. There is nothing he would not do for us, whether small or big. I can tell you that I have not gotten myself an oil change in the past decade. Much better than roses, ladies. If something can be delegated, he gladly takes on the responsibility. Not because he has to, because he wants to (most of the time).

man with two kids near body of water

Photo by Josh Willink on Pexels.com

I could go on and on about all of the unselfish things he does for us each day, but you get the drift. Sometimes when I am alone at night after work and he and the kids eventually get to sleep, the house is quiet and I think about all that we have, all that he does for us. I cannot even consider a life without him, we have grown up together and everything has changed since we met 18 years ago. He is sleeping so I don’t always get to convey what I am thinking at night, but I can write it down and hope he takes a gander at it in the morning. He most certainly will, because he has been my biggest support and best friend for half of my life now.

Hope your ears are ringing, Dave. Our ships may be passing in the night now, but I am so glad we have chosen to stay the same course. You are our lighthouse. Don’t ya forget it.


Our Little Fam

P.S. Sorry if I embarrassed ya’. You sort of had it coming. Remember years ago screaming down the crowded Walmart aisle at me while grocery shopping, “Hey hon! They have your Herpes-Be-Gone in stock! Sweet!” Well, this is your payback. I love you.

PSA: I do not have herpes or require the usage of said fake product, ”Herpes-Be-Gone”. My husband is a loon.

4 thoughts on “Our Lighthouse

  1. Kim says:

    I don’t know your husband but i love him. I love who he is and what he is for you. You have such a way with words and i bet, according to what i just read, this description pales in comparison to your selfless husband. Wow. Lucky Lady, I’m very happy for you. (I just about died at the ‘payback’ info you shared…he is obviously cut from the same goofy ass mold that we were! Hilarious.)

    Liked by 1 person

    • coherentwithcoffee says:

      Haha dude, I will never forget the look on the older lady’s face in the aisle with me, leaning on her shopping cart, and how she turned to look at me with her mouth open like, Sayyy Whaattt….?! lol It is still a running joke. If he makes a grocery list, I add “Herpes Be Gone” at the end of it. If I have a Target run list, guess what ends up at the bottom of the list if left unattended? 🙂


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