Friday, December 05, 2008
My Mother-in-law once told me that once, while carrying around my chubby, screaming, ear-infection prone infant husband-to-be, in the middle of the night, for the 10th night in a row, she had a brief fantasy of grabbing him by the ankles and slamming him into the wall.
But she didn't, and therefore Zar is 30 years old today!
Obviously a big milestone birthday. This morning he got a cable knit sweater that looked cooler at 5am on Black Friday, and a Wii game we already own. And I failed to wake him up on time for work.
Sometimes, like my mother in law, I want to kill Zar. But rarely. He no longer screams and cries at night, no longer has ear infections.
He does twist his ankle every time I force him to go hiking, has a 30 year love affair with TV, and bases his emotional stability on whether the Utes beat the cougs.
I met my husband on a Sunday night at Ward Prayer. A true Mormon Story, like something you'd see on TLC-I was thinner and young and wearing a sleeveless shirt as I didn't want to even KNOW someone who would judge an unmarried mormon girl for wearing a sleeveless shirt. I got up from the couch to go get another cookie, (my world revolves around cookies) and on my way to the kitchen could see that there were no more cookies. And yet kept walking, thinking "what am I going to do once I get to the kitchen? Turn around and come back? And there was my husband, also thinner, young, using his drivers license to prove that his name really is Zar. Which I used to find out his last name and immediately try it out with my first. He was not wearing a sleeveless shirt.
Married a year later, much to his parent's delight, who thought his TV love affair may turn out to be his only.
My husband is generous and kind to everyone. He always gives me the Target gift cards he occasionally gets at work. He tips well (but not as well as I) and can strike up a conversation with strangers, or waiters. He loves attention (Sagittarius) and talks, and laughs, loudly.
My husband is a great dad. He loves his little girls and sings them songs and gives them kisses. When Charlotte had her clothes cut off her for her ambulance ride, he went to Old Navy and bought her new jeans, cords, a sweater and a pea coat, so she wouldn't have to wear hospital pajamas home. He is intuitive with them--if I am nervous about sending Charlotte to school, and he says he is too, she doesn't go. If he says she is fine, she is. He calls his new baby Ella-Bell.
My husband is a hard worker. He very, very rarely takes a sick day. He currently works full time, then goes to school two or three days a week from 6 pm to 10 pm. He goes to a study session from 8 to noon on Saturdays, does homework nearly every night, and plays with the nursery kids on Sunday while I sit in the foyer with my babies. He is on the honor roll.
My husband is a great husband. He provides me with everything I need, and even when I was making nearly as much as he, my money mostly went to me things, clothes I wanted, groceries I chose, gym membership, overpriced hair dresser, lunches out. He loves me even when I am depressed, "making rash emotional statements", pregnant, cranky, or broken out. He doesn't make me feel bad when I chose not to clean the house, or make dinner, or get dressed that day. He wants to spend time with me.
Maybe he occasionally makes dumb comments about my stretch marks, drops chips on the floor...and steps on them, or stays out all night gambling on vacation. I hate the sports radio he listens to, I hate most TV, I am not wild about his snoring (the death rattle)-But...he's a wonderful man, a wonderful dad, a wonderful husband, and I love him with all my heart.