Thank You, Babe

He leaves his pants right where he stepped out of them, shoes too. He leaves the toilet roll empty and puts the new roll on top of the dispenser. He even debates issues with me that I don't even care about, until it occurs to me to stop. But when I reflect on the wonderful things Babe has done for me and all that he does daily, I get sentimental and want to thank him as I kiss him all over his face...which, he hates.

Babe and I met in the fall of 1996 and although neither of us was smitten, we enjoyed talking and laughing and I guess any girl who watches SportsCenter is a keeper right? In our nearly 11 years together I can remember some very special moments when he went above and beyond what I expected of him as my boyfriend (and later, husband). As his 27th birthday approaches, I'm just thankful for it all.

Early in our relationship I lost my grandfather. Babe was with me, he held me close as I cried, and went to my dad's church with me the Sunday we found out. He held my hand while church members expressed their condolences and I did all I could to keep from collapsing from the ache in my heart. I thought I would surely die, but with Babe by my side I was able to get through the day.

I've found that there hasn't been anything I can't endure with Babe by my side. He truly is my strength, my rock. When I wake up in the morning in a mood from hell, he suggests I go to the coffee shop and read a magazine. When I just don't feel right you can see his mind struggling to understand, but when he can't he will simply ask, "What can I do?" He never loses patience with me, not the way I think I would if it were me. For that, I will be forever grateful.

Through two cesarean sections, he was there. The first was terrifying for me, him too but you'd never know it. He saw the fear in my eyes and he held my hand and talked me through to the sound of our baby girl's first cry.

"If it's a girl, you get 5 dirty diapers, a boy, I get 5 dirty diapers," he said distracting my mind from what was going on behind the blue sheet covering my open womb.

Babe didn't particularly 'have' to have a second child, and after a miscarriage in October 2003, I think he was gun-shy at the idea of another pregnancy. But he must have known, seen the burning desire I had in my heart to birth a healthy baby boy. So as I tracked my cycle and marked dates in his Palm Pilot "Nat's Ovulating", and even had him drink cough medicine while he was on a business trip in February 2004 to help his little swimmers (it worked!), he was willing to accept sex as a job instead of the joy it should be.

I put him through hell with my moods and lack of appreciation for all he does so I can be home with our kids, I know I do. So if Babe ever finds himself growing tired of my selfishness, I'd cry, beg and plea but in the end I'll know that he was there for me. He loved me when I was unlovable. He loved me when he didn't want to love me. He loved me for me and all of my many, many flaws. For that, I will be eternally grateful.