1/31/2024 0 Comments Susannah flood sexy![]() I can discipline a kid and cook a meatloaf and I can pick out window treatments. I also know how to hang a picture where it will be the most aesthetically pleasing in our home. I may make a ton of mistakes, but I know how to properly load a dishwasher. It should be about refreshing our relationship. I often forget that my husband needs my attention, my encouragement and my admiration as much, if not more, than my children. Date night shouldn’t solely be about my SAHM batteries recharging and how many margaritas I can consume before it’s time to go home. Sometimes their needs trump my husband’s happiness and well-being. My children’s happiness and well-being far trump anything in my life. When her brother came alone in 2010, he ranked right next to her on my priorities list. Since the day my first child was born in 2006, she has been my reason for living. Sometimes I should meet the need, whether or not I’m in the need-meeting mood. It just means that my testosterone levels aren’t as high as his. I often forget that sometimes I shouldn’t be selfish. This doesn’t mean that I’m abnormal or completely lacking a libido. I need it, too, but not as much as my husband. But, by God, men need it. My husband is just as in need as the hungry Betta Fish. I’m tired a lot. By 9 PM, the only things on my mind are folding the laundry, putting the kids’ snacks in their backpacks, locking the doors, feeding the malnourished fish, setting the clocks, brushing my teeth, lotioning my ashy elbows and getting into the bed to watch a show that does NOT involve animated pirates, sappy music while Danny Tanner resolves an issue, restoring cars or selling rare finds at a Las Vegas pawn shop. I want to relax and heave a collected sigh of relief that the day is done. I forget that my job as his wife is to encourage him, compliment him, value him and support him. I often forget that he deserves my utmost respect. I forget that sometimes my sarcasm and jokes hit below the belt. I forget that he’s a hard worker, a wonderful provider and a loving father. He’s been around for so long that it seems like he’s just some dude leaving crumbs of Wavy Lays on the couch and dirty boxers on the floor right next to the hamper. I sometimes forget that my husband is my husband. You don’t need me telling you what mistakes you make, either, but you probably make these. ![]() I don’t need other wives telling me what mistakes I make, because I’m aware of them. We are raising two unbelievable children (despite our parenting mistakes), and we both have the same vision of someday pointing our rocking chairs towards the west, watching our grandchildren score major grass stains on the lawn and sharing Glucosamine and Chondroitin supplements. We’ve prayed together, cried together, laughed together and gotten food poisoning together after eating disgusting undercooked burgers doused in Heinz 57. We’ve talked out our problems until the sun came up or one of husband’s farts lightened the mood. We’ve declared our love and apologies over the phone once our tempers and transmissions cooled down. We’ve had arguments that ended with slamming doors and Michelin tires screeching down the driveway. Like all relationships, we’ve had our ups and downs. It’s sometimes hard to believe that if our relationship were a person that it would be in the 7th grade, donning shiny braces and saying asinine things like “cray cray” and “totes.” My husband and I have been together for 12 years. Seriously, when it comes to mistakes, I’m experienced on how to make them in all areas. Maybe I’ll also blog about the mistakes that I make as a rainbow loom maker, Turbo Tax user and fitted sheet folder. After writing I’m Guilty of These Five Parenting Mistakes (And You Probably Are, Too), I knew that I needed to write a post that pays homage to the major muck-ups that I make as a wife.
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