Ode to Jim

I realized that I owe Jim some 'props' for things he's done lately. Often I mention the things that we argue or disagree about . . . or how hard things are when he's away . . . or what he doesn't deserve credit for . . . but it's been brought to my attention that I should highlight some of the GREAT things he does. I wouldn't want to paint the picture of a less-than-awesome husband. He is nothing short of amazing, despite our tifts or minor relationship hiccups.

So, to honor him, Jim deserves credit for . . .

My push present . . . you know, the gift the husband gives the wife when she delivers a baby. With Meg, the push present was . . . I won't say bad because that makes me sound like the spoiled wife that I am . . . but it wasn't exactly what I'd had in mind. YES -- I do realize that not everyone gets push presents. Beggers shouldn't be choosers. But, like I said, I'm spoiled. This 2nd time around, Jim was a little more prepared for what I had in mind for a gift in honor of my carrying his child for 9 months. He gave me a beautiful pair of diamond earrings. I won't go into the diamond earrings story -- some of you already know it -- but this was something I had been wanting for quite some time. Jim actually had them all ready in the delivery room, and he stuck them in Kate's blankets right after she was cleaned up and handed to me. Of course, I was clueless . . . I didn't see them, all snuggly tucked in next to her. In come my parents -- and they take the baby -- and then Jim had to pull the little box out and actually hand the present to me. I opened them a little later (when it was back to just Jim and I), and I put them on instantly. I love them -- and I haven't taken them out for even a minute since he gave them to me. Thank you, Jim . . . you did a great job. Carrying your baby was my pleasure . . . but the earrings sure do remind me of the work I did ;)

The 4th of July . . . we were sitting in some crazy post-fireworks traffic, and Jim decided to take matters into his own hands. After sitting idle in the car for nearly 40 minutes, Jim hopped out and walked to the front of the traffic line to see what was going on. He walked a block or so away, trying to find a better route for people to take that would help drain our parking lot a little quicker. Jim realized that a left turn from the lot was better than the right that so many cars were attempting, so -- and this is no lie -- he walked along the line of cars attempting to exit the parking lot and told each driver to turn left. He explained that there was virtually no traffic going left . . . so if people would go that way, we'd all get out of there much faster. When he returned to the car, I laughed and told him nobody would ever follow his suggestion . . . some strange guy telling you where to go? No way that would work! 10 minutes later, we were out of the parking lot (and yes, we made a left turn like ALL the cars in front of us). It had worked. I apologize, Jim, for doubting you. You are the master.

Baby Care . . . Jim has been nothing short of my biggest helper. He's awesome with the girls. Tonight -- somewhat on a whim -- I went out with a friend and had dinner, leaving him alone with both Kate and Meg for the very first time. And Kate is still screaming all evening. And Meg's baths are still quite challenging. He did it all alone tonight and did not complain a bit. Thanks for the night off, Daddy-O. I totally owe you.

The Playset . . . which is simply amazing. I can't believe he built it -- almost exclusively on his own -- and enjoyed doing it. The pictures speak for themselves.

There are a million things he deserves credit for . . . putting Kate to be each night after her last feeding, getting up with Meg in the morning so I can snooze for 30 extra minutes, making dinner, taking out the trash, working with the contractor in the last few weeks of basement work . . . I can't possibly think of everything.

The main point is: Jim, I appreciate all you do for us, for me, for our family. You deserve credit for it all. We couldn't do it without you.