Light Gestapo

Just the two of us were sitting on the couch and I realized there were seven lights on.

Seven.

So, I pushed myself up and turned off two of the lights in the living room, one in the kitchen, one in the den, and then trudged upstairs to turn off the one in our bedroom.

“You’re as bad as the kids”, I told my husband knowing he was the last one in our room.

As soon as the comment left my lips I wanted to take it back. Why would I say that to him? How many times had he helped me, put me first? When did I become the light Gestapo? When did I start parenting my husband?

We have been spending a lot of time apart. He has been incredibly busy with work coming home after we have fallen asleep for the night. I have been in full-on mom mode and a large part of that is holding our boys accountable. Yikes! My husband doesn’t need a mother, he needs a wife.

Embarrassed, I reclaimed my seat on the couch next to him and sheepishly snuggled him. He acted as though I said nothing and I hoped he didn’t hear me.

The next morning I awoke still thinking about my comment. Sure, it wasn’t anything earth-shattering, but it was just one more jab. Lately, I have been throwing a lot of those. Why? Why am I belittling the one person who always puts me first?

Always.

He fiercely protects my dreams encouraging me to chase them. I wanted to write, he built me a desk, gave me an office, instructed our children not to disrupt me during my writing hours.

When I am cold in bed, he lets me wrap myself around him to take in his warmth.

For all my shortcomings and annoying traits, he rarely, if ever, points them out. Instead, he just accepts me as I am in the moment.

Dear sweet, loving, patient husband, I am aware even if you are not. I will work on myself. You deserve to be built up, not torn down. I will do better because that is what you deserve.

Better is what you have always deserved.

I can and will be better.

For you.

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