The love of my life.

I love my husband. I love the incredibly amazing things about him just as much as the annoyingly mundane things about him. Perhaps because my mother and stepfater's 20th anniversary was yesterday I feel compelled to talk about the love I have with Honey. My parent's relationship has been a litmus test to me as I navigated the world of dating. My mom once told me that I needed to stop dating "losers, jerks, and assholes" and find a nice guy. And then I brought home Honey. When he told my parents that he was going to propose to me with a ring that included the diamond my father gave to my mother and the diamond my grandfather gave to my grandmother my mother's response was simple; "It took you long enough". Translation: she approved. So to honor my parents on the day after their anniversary I chose to honor my Honey. It's not everyday we tell the people we love exactly how we feel about them, but I'll try here. That way, the next time he really pisses me off, I'll find this entry and he'll be forgiven.

Let's see...things I love about Honey:
-I love that he understands me and keeps me calm. -I love that he knows I hate when he tells me to relax but does it anyway because it usually works. -I love that he lets me stick my cold feet under his leg to warm them when I get into bed. -I love that he has all these games with the Lovie that only they do. -I love him for him love of his grandfather, because my love for mine was (and still is) so profound. -I love that he stares at me sometimes with such intensity that I might blush. -I love that he is full of boyish wonder. -I love that he's a science geek. (There Honey, I said it, it's sexy. OK, moving on.) -I love that he is a hopeless romantic and always gets sucked into romantic comedies.

I love that I could keep writing this list for days and still not finish. There are a thousand things and more that I love about my husband and most days I remember how truly blessed and lucky I am to have him in my life. Thank you Honey.

Beauty.

In my life, I've been told I am beautiful. My husband tells me almost everyday. This is usually what he says where "I love you" should go. I do consider myself an attractive person (inside and out). Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I see what the people are talking about.

Some days however, it's harder than others to agree. Like last week when I was grieving the one year anniversary of my mother in-law's death, my brother in-law's father died while waiting for a heart transplant, and my daughter was sick for five days with a fever no less than 101. Those were ugly days and I felt uglier for it. I'm not even quite sure I looked in the mirror. Just like on those mothering days that you feel have beaten you. You know the ones where you end up unshowered, covered in unknown food items, wearing dirty clothes when you pray for bedtime to come just a few minutes sooner. I certainly don't feel like a beauty queen then.

What happened tonight though, made me feel stunningly beautiful. It happens often and I always have the same reaction. Lovie and I have had this ritual since she was teeny tiny. After her bath when she's all scrunched up in her towel and we're headed to her room we pause and look in the mirror. I started this way back when because looking in the mirror always makes her smile. Here's where the beauty comes in. When I'm holding my gorgeous baby girl and she looks at me like I'm the only thing in the world that matters I feel like I am the most beautiful person in the universe. Seeing myself through my daughter's eyes is incredibly powerful. It doesn't matter to her whether I'm covered in spit up (or worse), whether or not my hair is done or I have makeup on. She just thinks I'm beautiful because I'm me. And isn't that one of the greatest feelings in the world?