I love blogging on Mondays.  I usually take a blogging break Saturday and Sunday and then by Monday I have lots to write about.  But yesterday was empty, I had nothing to say, I spent the entire day catching up with laundry from the weekend and matching socks.  My mind was as empty as a bucket.

I’m laughing a little because it’s 7 in the morning and here I am typing.  I woke up last night at 3:30 full of all the words I missed yesterday….words running through my head, coming out my ears!  Keeping me awake.  I wrote two “Happy Birthday, Rich” blog posts in my head and considered getting up to type.  Then I remembered, “Sarah is sick.”

“I bet God woke me up so I could go check on her.”

Up the stairs I went to my four year old’s bedroom.  The light was on in the bathroom so there was plenty to see by.  I tiptoed to the edge of her bed and leaned in to look at her face.  Her eyes were open and she spoke.

“Hi Mom.”  (so polite! my heart melts)
“How are you feeling?” I stroked her hair back to feel for a fever, she was nice and cool.
“Good.”  (in that tiny voice)
“How is your tummy?”
“Bad.  Can I wake up now?”
“No, it’s 3:30 in the morning.”  (not that she can comprehend the hour) “Do you want to go down and sleep on the couch?”
“Yes!  And can I have a drink, please?”

She had a drink and I tucked her in on the couch.  Her big brother Jacob was asleep on the other end, we have a big family sectional with room for everyone, he was sound asleep, arms and legs everywhere, whistling and snoring like it was his purpose in life.  I stood and looked at them for a moment, half expecting Sarah to complain that she couldn’t sleep with so much noise.  But she didn’t say a word.  She was happy.

It’s this hottie’s birthday today.  He is 41 years old.  He is currently sound asleep in our comfortable bed and I’m hoping that he sleeps and sleeps and feels 21 when he gets up, because that would make him happier than anything.  Exercising is a passion of his, consequently he is always and forever feeling some sort of body ache.  Currently it is the hips.  Truly, “no pain no gain”, but he decided that at the age of 41 it’s age making him ache, not a sign of pushing the limits, a sign of manly manliness.

Bodily speaking, I think he’s coming into his own and getting better and better looking as each year goes by.

Looks are important but of course they aren’t everything.

Here are just a few of his accomplishments:  farmer from birth, mechanic, race car driver (1 season), semi-pro football player (1 season), married at the age of 21, insurance adjuster, preacher, teacher, deacon (6 years), singer of solos (now and then), softball player, wrestling coach, speaker, VP of claim at an insurance company (currently), and he has been working for the same company 17 years.  In my opinion his biggest accomplishment was fathering seven children, and being lovingly involved in their growing.

He is a hard worker, excellent lover, good provider for his family, kind, generous, honest, adventurous, church-going, faithful, courageous, godly, strong, disciplined, mature, wise, sensible, gentle, and brave.

It sounds as if he has no faults, but rest assured, he has plenty, just like everyone else on this created earth.  Someday I’ll do a blog post all about his bad points.  JUST KIDDING.  When you love someone you only want to publicize his good side, but rest assured he and I both have plenty of very irritating qualities.  However, I can brag that this man of mine has never hurt anyone, never broke any laws besides the speed limit, and doesn’t do drugs or womanize.  I mean, he actually is practically perfect.

Laura Ingalls Wilder wrote her book Farmer Boy, all about her husband, which I think is the dearest and sweetest thing.  Imagine the conversations through the years as he told her his memories and she stored them away to become a book for children.

I have often thought, that if I ever wrote a book, I would like to do the same thing; write my husband’s stories.  He has plenty.  He isn’t a big talker (we have, on average, really boring conversations…we tend to communicate in other ways…..) but when he starts talking about his upbringing, random injuries, and other adventures, he comes alive and his listeners, mainly our children, hang on every word.  Mind you, he keeps the stories short with very little description and no romance, but there’s a lot to be said for good ol’ prose.

As I sit here tip tapping on the laptop, my heart is filled with gratitude for another year of life for my husband.  I trust him with everything and cannot imagine life without him at my side.