Here on “Married, with TiVo and Teens,” I have talked about my TiVo, and I’ve certainly talked about my teens…but I haven’t talked about the “Married” part yet. This is an unfortunate oversight, because as the title of this blog suggests, the marriage definitely comes first in our house (even if there are some days when we barely have time to say hi to each other). So, in honor of our 19th wedding anniversary (today!), I’d like to take a moment away from television and parenting to write a little something about my man. *blush*

As most great love stories start, he grew up in New York, I grew up near Chicago, and we met . . . in Iowa City. A classic tale of love amongst the cornfields. We worked together in the same lab/research group in graduate school, and became friends as we commiserated over our recent long-distance breakups. (Note: in general, it is wise not to place a lot of faith in “rebound” relationships; however, in our case, the “double rebounds” seemed to cancel each other out.) As time went on, our pep talks turned into deeper conversations, we discovered that we both were addicted to music, sarcasm, thunderstorms, and the TV show Love Connection—and the rest is history.

Of course, we disagree on just enough issues to make things interesting (cilantro, the merits of Starship Troopers, household climate control, medical dramas on TV, camping…). In many other cases, however, I have managed to get him to appreciate some things he never would have tried (Wicked, corned beef, the symphony). And, I have to admit, he has turned me on to the joys of several things I never would have embraced without his influence (Syracuse basketball, the Rolling Stones, wine that costs more than $5 a bottle). But the biggest change has been the effect he has had on my outlook in general: Before I met my husband, I was always in such a hurry to get somewhere or do something that I never just took the time to say, “Hey, look at that!” But in the nearly 20 years that we’ve been together, he’s taught me to slow down, look around (Ferris Bueller-style) and notice the world around me. Every car ride is an adventure; every adventure is a memory.

And when it comes to fatherhood, no dad could be more devoted to his children, especially during those sleepless, exhausting early years.

No baby daughter has been more adored:

And of course, Daddy was the one to elicit Baby’s First Giggles:

By the time our son came around, my husband took his Male Role Model responsibilities very seriously.

Lesson One–the best way to watch a Bears game on a Sunday afternoon:

Lesson Two–the proper way to hang a Christmas stocking:

Macho pursuits aside, nothing warms a mom’s heart as much as a man who’s not afraid to show his softer side. Who can resist a dad helping his little girl put on her Easter gloves?

And he always seemed to be able to find a little extra time to go on hikes with the kids, teaching them, too, to always remember to “look around.”

But most of all, he’s just my guy: willing to listen, willing to laugh, willing to be supportive, willing to be indignant on my behalf, always there for me, no matter what crazy mood I’m in. (And there are a lot of crazy moods. I try to be as low-maintenance as possible, but I am a girl, after all–and astonishingly, he wouldn’t have it any other way.) He’s been devoted to me through thick and through . . . thicker. To steal a phrase from Lost, he’s “My Constant.”

So Happy Anniversary, hub! Thanks for making me feel that I’ve been loved enough for nineteen lifetimes!

I can’t wait to see what the next nineteen years will bring.

Love,

W

This entry was posted on Tuesday, September 23rd, 2008 at 8:29 am and is filed under parent. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.