To My Hunny Bunny…

Dear Hunny Bunny,

Happy Valentine’s Day! You are reading this from a different state because your stupid company decided they needed you to go on a stupid business trip this stupid week. And they currently have the wrath of Michelle because I misses you so much!! You left this past Tuesday at some god-awful early time in the morning and I tried to get up and walk you to the door, but I had been up most of the night with The Dude because he got sick in the middle of the night. I ran out to the store at 1 in the morning and when you heard me pulling a sweatshirt over my head you woke up and asked me if you could go for me. I knew you had to get up in a few short hours, so I told you not to be silly. But had you even remotely heard any indication in my voice, you would have gotten up and gone, no questions asked. Shortly after the alarm went off to wake you, I felt you kiss my cheek and whisper goodbye. I smiled and groggily told you to drive safe and be careful, because if you ever get hurt on me I will kill you. It makes sense in my head. Shut up. When the alarm went off again just a teeny tiny, not even close to long enough time later, for me to get up and get the kids ready for school and me ready for work, I sleepily walked into the bathroom. And I smiled. Cause even though we promised not to do anything for Valentine’s day, like the intelligent man you are, you ignored me – or if I remember your exact words, “Oh,I’m not falling into THAT trap!” (smart cookie! your mama didn’t raise no dummy!) There was a card and a bear and chocolates. Lucky you, you got to leave during the pms week!! The chocolates came in VERY handy! (I think I opened the box in the bathroom right after work that day, ate ALL of them at once, and I am not really sure if I even chewed.)

I think often about how lucky I am for our paths to have crossed and for us to have decided to give this a go. I am in awe everyday at how amazing a man you are. And I get that roller coaster feeling in my stomach when I have been away from you and I see you for the first time all day and when you kiss me I get all girlie and goofie and tingly and how did I luck out to be with such a handsome and sexy man that I am so incredibly attracted to AND that is my best friend on this planet?!? You are kind, and generous and so good to me I sometimes wonder, well, frankly if you are as intelligent as I think you are. I mean, I am no prize. Nothing worthy of all you give me. Clearly I should question your mental status. I leave cabinet doors open, never ever put lids on anything, I never put the cap on the toothpaste and will ignore that disgusting goopy mess it makes until you just buy another tube for yourself. Then you don’t say a word when I start using yours because I don’t want to clean off the top of mine because it is too gross. I can’t cook to save my life, I will never be the one to decide to clean the house first, I hate to do laundry and I still am amazed when I have looked all over for that black sweater I want to wear and get all pissed looking for it because I can’t remember where I put it and the reason I cannot find it is because you washed it and HUNG IT UP for me! I never thought to look in the closet. Sad, isn’t it? I am far too easy with my kids, I probably do too much for them, I probably let them get away with too much because I don’t think most things are a big deal. I tell you the same stories over and over and over again, and you just listen over and over again. And after one of my 20 minute sagas of how once, when I was 9 I made all these little clay dogs and made flyers to post all over the neighborhood and how my mom wouldn’t let me and I was ABSOLUTELY DEVASTATED that she would not support my artistic dreams, and how I could NOT understand how a mother could be so utterly cruel to her child… (not realizing of course, in my 9 year old wisdom that the flyers had a map of our house that would give every child molester in the neighborhood the route to a little girl’s house who loved puppies – I gotchya now Mom, we’re coolio. But back then? Pretty PO’d at ya.) And only after my dramatic ending where I put so much emphasis on the devastation, you smile and say, “I know. You’ve told me story before.” And when I say, “Why don’t you stop me???” You always smile and say, “Because I like to hear you tell your stories.”

So yes, I really have no idea how it is you put up with me. I am a too-liberal, too-idealist, overly-optimistic, far too easy going parent, won’t even get into the pms-ing part of the month I regularly put you through, not very neat and unorganized artist with what I am pretty sure is a fairly unhealthy obsession for painting dogs. (I mean really, who gets THAT GIDDY over painting dogs – it’s odd, I know. But admitting it is the first step.)

Oh. And then there are my kids. The patience you have with them, just blows me away. In the past two years you three have gotten to know each other s-l-o-w-l-y. And at times, I will admit, it irritated the crap out of me. WHY would you three not get closer FASTER! DO more with them! TALK to them. And ya know what? You three were the ones that did it your way. There was no winning over, there was no bribery, there was no fakeness, no trips to the toy store to quicken the process. You three figured out how we four all fit together over time. And now, looking back it was all you. You have never missed a school event, not a talent show, a Christmas show,an awards ceremony or a music concert. Since we began dating ‘seriously’ and the kids knew about you, you have not missed one single thing in their lives. And you never brought any attention to it, you never made a big deal about it, you just quietly and surely, over time, showed my children by your actions that you are someone they can count on and trust. You never once said you would do any of it, you just DID it. And I am not sure they noticed in the beginning, but I guarantee that they notice now. They call out your name when they get home, they ask when you are coming home, and I love when you walk in the door from work and they yell out hello to you in that sing-songy way they say your name. And being someone my children can count on? Well that, that hardly has words. And if it is possible, it makes me adore you even more. And Hunny Bunny? I adore you more than there are grains of sand on all the beaches on earth.

So we are not together today, on this made up greeting card holiday to make corporate America money, (but you did good to get me chocolate anyway) and that is ok. Because every day is a day I feel so loved, so MADLY IN LOVE with someone I feel like was hand picked for me to spend the rest of my life with, that I don’t need a special day to celebrate it. I celebrate it every day. There is no luckier girl in the world than me and I know it. You are, simply, the love of my life.

So Happy Valentine’s Day, Best Boyfriend Ever, I love you even more than painting dogs – and lord knows THAT’S sayin’ something.

Love,
Your Crazy Girlfriend

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