Now, I'm no one to give advice about marriage but I just have to share something ironic and eye opening that happened this weekend.
I sat up typing Friday night to enter my husband in Redbook's Hottest Husband of 2009 contest (essay and link below). I then went on to have a really rocky, trying weekend with the guy I wrote so glowingly about.
By Sunday night, I was really bummed. I picked up the essay I had written about Pete and realized that the things I had praised him about were all true even during such a difficult weekend. He had just done other things to offend.
Long point short: it was a great lesson in appreciating my husband for what he is. Rather than what he is not.
I also had fun writing the essay and think all of you should enter too as if you win you'll get a 2 week cruise. And even if you don't, your printed out essay taped to the fridge will make your other half stand just a tad taller. Which is always a good thing.
Here's my essay (posted here solely because I just think it's so cute!)
Hottest Husband 2009: Peter Johnson!
My husband, Peter Johnson, is the hottest husband hands down because he’s got the body of Lance Armstrong and the heart of Mother Teresa.
Last year, when Pete was suddenly laid off [I was 6 months pregnant at the time], he rose to the task of opening his own business. As he sat at our kitchen table pouring over bills, our boys, ages 2 and 4 climbed on him like a jungle gym – “Yay, Daddy’s home!” Pete never once raised his voice. Very much like the meaning of his name, he was our “rock” through a tremendously difficult time. His business, by the way, took off – so he’s one heck of a bread-winner as well.
Sounds good right, but a hot body, a tender heart and entrepreneurial success are just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to gloating about my guy. And while I could never name every last thing Pete does to make my world a more beautiful place – like looking deeply into my eyes or telling me he thinks I’m brilliant or reaching out to grasp my hand as we drift off to sleep – I’ll sum up, and most certainly win this competition, by simply describing my morning routine – I promise you, it’s that good.
I sleep in everyday (okay okay – don’t hate me because that just means 7:15 a.m. at my house – however, it’s a luxurious hour compared to the 5 a.m. start my husband receives with our rooster … I mean our baby. Not only does Pete take the baby every morning to let me sleep … and not only does he have a set of blue eyes that could launch a thousand ships … and not only does he have the bod of an athlete and the heart of a Saint … but here’s the best part … the part that will certainly tip the scales in his favor: My husband is the hottest husband of 2009 Because [insert drum roll] He. Makes Me. Coffee. Every Day. [note to reader: gasp here for breath]. He then brings it to my nightstand, looking oh so fine in his pajamas and morning scruff, gives me a kiss and says, “Morning, Beautiful.”
Last year, when Pete was suddenly laid off [I was 6 months pregnant at the time], he rose to the task of opening his own business. As he sat at our kitchen table pouring over bills, our boys, ages 2 and 4 climbed on him like a jungle gym – “Yay, Daddy’s home!” Pete never once raised his voice. Very much like the meaning of his name, he was our “rock” through a tremendously difficult time. His business, by the way, took off – so he’s one heck of a bread-winner as well.
Sounds good right, but a hot body, a tender heart and entrepreneurial success are just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to gloating about my guy. And while I could never name every last thing Pete does to make my world a more beautiful place – like looking deeply into my eyes or telling me he thinks I’m brilliant or reaching out to grasp my hand as we drift off to sleep – I’ll sum up, and most certainly win this competition, by simply describing my morning routine – I promise you, it’s that good.
I sleep in everyday (okay okay – don’t hate me because that just means 7:15 a.m. at my house – however, it’s a luxurious hour compared to the 5 a.m. start my husband receives with our rooster … I mean our baby. Not only does Pete take the baby every morning to let me sleep … and not only does he have a set of blue eyes that could launch a thousand ships … and not only does he have the bod of an athlete and the heart of a Saint … but here’s the best part … the part that will certainly tip the scales in his favor: My husband is the hottest husband of 2009 Because [insert drum roll] He. Makes Me. Coffee. Every Day. [note to reader: gasp here for breath]. He then brings it to my nightstand, looking oh so fine in his pajamas and morning scruff, gives me a kiss and says, “Morning, Beautiful.”
# # #
Now, do the right thing and enter your Mister!
3 comments:
I love that my brother has "the bod of an athlete."
If you were still his girlfriend, and he still lived at home, I would absolutely be merciless in repeating the phrase over and over to him.
I think this essay's a sweet representation of Pete's finer points (and his athletic bod!), and I appreciate the reminder to focus on what our husbands ARE instead of on what they aren't. It's too easy to hold them to a standard of scrutiny to which we'd hate to be held.
I hope you win your contest and become a millionaire or whatever the prize is. I read your piece in Blue Mountain Moments, and I have been passing it around to everyone. You have officially become one of my "writer pals" now too. You're so cool...Perhaps we can come up with a secret handshake for when we are in town amongst non word-nerds...
Okay, so this was about husbands, but I am more impressed that there is a possibility of publication.
Thanks Abby and Tiffani for the thoughts,
You should both enter your respective spouses (not each others as that would be weird) in the contest as well as you both have great catches (that John of Abby's takes her on surprise trips and that Lee of Tiffani's is so nice and helps with dishes and is Latin which is just cool in itself); so get to it girls. Perhaps we'll all win!
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