Friday, June 8, 2012
16 Resons I am Still Crazy About My Husband
He is the calm in the middle of my storms. He is the sane to my sometimes CRAZY. He has put up with my "quirky" personality for 16 years of marriage, and he loves me, sometimes because of, and sometimes in spite of, who I am.
He is steady and true and hard to move, which can be both wonderful and exasperating. When I have wanted to do crazy, irrational things, he has kept me from it, i.e. purchasing a farm. When I have wanted to do crazy, rational things, he has supported me, i.e. homeschooling our three children. And I'm only just a wee bit bitter that he won't let me have chickens.
He has the most beautiful blue eyes I have ever seen. And he was kind enough to pass those beautiful blue eyes on to three other pairs of gorgeous eyes that I get to see every day. And those three sets of eyes happen to be attached to three of the most beautiful, amazing children on the planet. I'm fairly certain that along with their beautiful blue eyes, most of their really good traits come from him.
He is tall and strong and my head fits exactly into the hollow of his chest when we stand in the kitchen after he gets home from work, and he hugs me tight.
He often forgets to engage his filter, which could be really bad in a marriage, but he is never purposely unkind. And when he does forget to use it, I have seen him physically try to swallow up the words that have escaped unfiltered. It is amusing.
He is funny in a quiet, you-never-know-what-he-might-say, kind of way. My all-time favorite example happened when a former co-worker of his told him a story about almost cutting his toe off while chopping wood in flip flops. Jeff looked at him, cocked his head, and in his slow, off-handed manner said, "Well, if you're gonna be stupid, you better be tough." I almost fell off my chair.
He is comfortable in his own skin - so much so that he is not afraid to make a complete fool of himself in public. I've never been one to easily laugh at myself, but my husband does not have that problem. He just doesn't take himself that seriously. Recently at work he has been donning a Titan's flag around his neck and running around his office as Captain Titan, just to lighten up a long week.
He can fix almost anything, and he can fix it right. And if he doesn't have the tools or parts to do it right, he can make it work, usually with the help of duct tape.
He is an Eagle Scout, and he is steadfast, faithful, and always prepared. I'm fairly certain he could keep us alive in the woods with just a pocket knife and piece of flint. He is not a girly man, which I find totally hot. Just bein' honest here...
He is a man of abiding faith. I study theology and think deeply about issues concerning faith, and when I discuss them with him, he says two or three sentences that immediately clarify exactly what I've been struggling with. Then he goes about doing what he was doing before, while I marvel at his easy understanding.
He keeps light bulbs in a cabinet in the garage. If he is standing in a room when a light bulb blows, he will walk straight into the garage, get one out of his stash, and replace the old one. This is HUGE for a girl who grew up in a house where a light bulb might be out for weeks. Did I mention that "always prepared" thing?
He is old-fashioned and traditional. He has always supported me staying home with our children, but he does not expect me to be responsible for everything having to do with our house and children. He takes his role as provider very seriously, and as an employer, he takes providing for other peoples' families very seriously as well.
He is not afraid of work - of any kind - but he is not a workaholic. He goes to work early, so he can get home to see us.
He is a man of deep integrity. When faced with doing the right thing which is hard, or doing the wrong thing which is easy, he chooses the right thing.
He is an incredible father who wrestles, plays, tickles, laughs and has all manner of fun with our children. When my paranoid mother gene kicks in and I insist our children are going to break their necks on a trampoline or shoot their eyes out with a Nerf gun, he steps in and lets our kids do "dangerous" things. This is a good thing.
After 16 years of marriage, three children delivered via C-section, stretch marks, a few wrinkles, a gray hair or two, and more than a few pounds later, he still looks at me like I am a cool cup of water and he is a man parched in the desert. And that is a very good thing...
Around here our anniversary is not usually a big deal. We're not that romantic or hung up on things like birthdays or festive occasions. I often forget to buy a card or a gift, and we both forgot our 14th anniversary (being leaders at a Cub Scout day camp will do that to you.) But this year I wanted to mark the occasion with a few words. I love you Jeff Buck! I may get lots of things wrong and flit from hither and yon in life coming up with new things to do and be when I grow up, but one thing I know for sure: I married a supremely good man, and I am blessed beyond measure to be your wife. Here's to 50 or 60 more years together...