OK, so I probably should of wrote a really soppy blog post last year on our 10 year anniversary but I never got round to it and suddenly here we are another year on.
I'm sure with all of our bickering plenty of people thought we wouldn't get to 11 years of marriage. Some certainly thought we were too young to get married, yet here we are.
I'm incredibly lucky to have the husband that I have.
Many would have turned away when we couldn't easily have a child.
Many would have ran a mile when my health deteriorated. Not many would help their wife get dressed when she's having a bad day.
Many would shake their head in disapproval when their wife lusts after the latest superhero. You take me to see the movie.
You somehow don't roll your eyes when I say 'I've been thinking....' and then roll off twenty DIY jobs I want doing in the next 72 hours like we're living in an episode of DIY SOS.
You never complain if a bad fibro day has meant you've come home to a messy house and no dinner prepared.
You love our son to pieces, even though he socks you in the balls nearly everyday.
You're always there to help family and friends, although we sometimes have to remind you a few times.
You don't use a calendar and have no idea what we are doing from way day to another or when appointments, birthdays or holidays are.
You leave your pants, socks, OK, most of your clothes, on the floor.
You have to have a cup of tea in the morning otherwise you can't function.
We drive each other mad but yet 11 years on it still works, we still communicate, we still get on (most of the time), we balance each other out.
Most of all you are my biggest supporter and are always the voice saying 'you can do this'.
This week I have left a relatively secure office job to be a blogger and spend more time with our son. You have encouraged me and have been massively supportive of this decision. When I asked if you were sure you were OK with it you said 'I just want you to be happy', and I am.
I really, really am.
Mummy Snowy Owl
xx
I’ve got you babe
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