Posted by AVM

My husband has been known to have a romantic streak.  Our engagement story is something out of a movie.  Our first anniversary? Over-the-top lovely and memorable.  He’s given to grand gestures – not all the time – but enough to sweep me off my feet now and again.  I appreciate the effort – even the smaller things he’s done – flowers on our dating anniversary, finding my stash of many RENT tickets and framing them for me, or finding the perfect card and writing a heartfelt message – whatever it is, I love it.  I love that he’s like that – thoughtful, sweet, good to me.  And I hope, that if he were here to respond, he’d say the same of me.

As our years together wax and wane, the butterflies of romance are replaced by practicality.  I have found that his romantic streak, while still existent, has taken on a different form.  My dear husband does all the stuff I don’t like to do.  He takes out the garbage and deals with the recycling.  He does all the laundry, folds it and puts it away (color-coded, I might add).  He does anything and everything having to do with outdoors – gardening, dealing with the cars, all the manual labor.  And all of that is better than flowers and candy.  It’s the real work of a marriage that remains after the lovestuck years are replaced by the routine of children, a mortgage, and a life that doesn’t allow a trip to Paris at a moment’s notice.  Right about now you’re wondering what the hell I do if he’s doing all that?  I get the girls up and ready, fed and off to school.  I pick them up, feed us all, bathe them, get them to bed, and a million other things that help hold up our family and keep it running smoothly.  Although we do share all of the above tasks a lot (read: most) of the time, this is our basic division of labor.  And it’s love.  It’s not our love of years gone by, but it’s love all the same – and in many ways more meaningful.   I love him for it.  I love him for recognizing that this is love too, and that we, as a couple, are all these things.  The whirlwind romance, the engagement, the trips, the wedding, the flowers, the cards, the children, taking out the trash, folding the laundry, being the one at 3AM to find that damn paci the baby is crying for, getting dinner on the table – all of this, and so, so, much more – are all layers upon layers of our life together, proof of our love for each other, made richer by whatever each new day brings.