You are completely oblivious.
You didn’t realize that I grinned ear-to-ear as you played and giggled with our four-year-old for an hour after you came home from work.
You didn’t notice I saw you get up five separate times to complete random tasks.
You have no idea that I sighed a huge grateful breath as you got our daughter ready for a bath and dressed her afterwards.
You have no idea that as I held our infant, I listened at the door as you read to her big sister, patiently listening as she pointed out different pictures on the page, completely ruining the flow of the story.
You are completely blind to the fact that I see you taking care of the dog.
You have no idea that relief washed over me when I noticed the dishes were clean and the trash can was taken to the curb. Again.
I could go on, but suffice it to say that I am so grateful for you and all that you do for our family. I know that all these moments of relief and gratitude go unnoticed by you and others, because I do not voice them, but they are there.
Sometimes I think that my ease of becoming stressed and overwhelmed trump my ability to realize how blessed I am to have you. You are an amazing father. If I’m being honest, I’m jealous sometimes of your ability to be silly and your apparent ease of washing off the day’s weight. You come home, and you are immediately present and ready to play with the kids. It’s beautiful, and I struggle to be that way. But I am so thankful that you are.
Husband, thank you for being silly with me. Thank you for lovingly mocking my tears at sad shows, for wrestling me, for dancing with me, for trash talking during random competitions. These are moments I treasure.
Thank you for supporting me. You never blink when I tell you I want to take something on, even when I know you must have your doubts. You hide them behind your trust in and support of me. I see that, and I am so grateful. I don’t know that I’d be brave enough to take them on if you didn’t.
Finally, husband, thank you for being the example for our daughter. You are showing her daily what a husband and father should be, and this is something only you could give her. Thank you.
P.S. Rock, paper, scissors: who’s doing the laundry?