You know your husband has been away when…


So today I fed my son lunch.  He is the cutest thing.  But he ate his chips (of course) first and his blueberries next.  His strawberries and hot dog remained on his plate.  And then he did what any normal human would do—he asked for more chips (I mean, come on, we all love salty potato chips).

I said, “No.”

And then he started to cry.

Typical response of a toddler who has been told no.  So I was not worried.  Not only was it typical, it showed me that it was time for the little man to head to bed.  Nap time.  Obviously he had good food in front of him:  strawberries and hot dog (okay, the hot dog is questionable), and he didn’t eat.  Therefore, my mommy sense picked up that he was tired.

So I did what I would do any other day…I said, “Okay, Maxie…Nap time!”  He didn’t object.  I prepared his milk (coconut milk—the boy has a dairy allergy) and got him down to change his diaper before his nap.

That’s when the man of the house came along…”You want more chips, Max?  Okay.  Eat a couple hot dog bites and strawberries for daddy and I’ll give you more chips.”  Boy walks dad to the pantry and points to the chips.

Oh no!  Sinking ship—and fast!!!  Where are your water pails???  Because it became a tsunami of tears.

“Chips, Dadda!  Chips!”

“Eat 2 bites of hot dog for Dadda.  You are two.  One.  Two.  Eat two bites.”

“Chiiiiiiipppppppps, Dadda!”

Crocodile tears are now cascading down his cheeks.

“Maxie, do you want chips?  You have to eat your strawberries and two bites of hot dog for Dadda.”

“CHIPS!”  Waterworks galore.

At this point, my husband looks at me, “Should I give him chips?”

“Yes.  Give him chips.”  The toddler has won.

One.  Two.  Chips for the sobbing toddler.  Mommy packed up the hot dog and ate the strawberries herself.

“Moh (for more) chips, Dadda!” As I sweep him out of the bar stool and proceed to change his diaper.

Yes, you know that your husband has been away when you try and stick to the routine you have been doing on your own for the past month and in an instant there is another factor—the Daddy factor.  And all of what you have been doing gets flipped upside down and inside out.  And daddy gets suckered in.

But, you know, in the end, I would rather my son take my husband by the hand and lead him to the pantry and ask for more chips, while leaving a perfectly good uneaten lunch on his plate.

Why?  You may wonder.

Because that means daddy is home to ask.  And there is nothing more grand than that.

Except, perhaps, chips…


Lunch for a Queen…Even when looking like a rag.

Love IS blind…

You know how sometimes they say that love is blind?  Well, you may honestly wonder if sometimes Rich is blind.

The other day my wonderful husband made his pregnant wife lunch—one of my favorites—eggs over easy, toast, and a perfect iced coffee with caramel.  He was supposed to make bacon, but he forgot that.  Sigh.  It’s okay.  I forgave him (this time ;)).

But he went a step beyond making me and my belly lunch—he made homemade blueberry jam to spread across my toast!

Here’s a simple picture of his culinary goodness.


Well, that’s sweet…You may add.

You are baking his baby…You may continue to add.

It’s nice when the husband cooks sometimes…You may even top off your thoughts with this.

It is sweet.

I am baking his baby—little Josephine Diane.

And he cooks MOST times right now.

But the catch is…

He made me a beautiful lunch (my favorite) and homemade blueberry jam.  And ALL I could muster up for my husband was this:


Notice the glasses slanted down on the nose? (I refuse to get bifocals, folks.  I am FAR too young for those.  The slant down will have to suffice)

Notice the rounded face without a drop of make up?

Notice the hair—the lion’s mane—protruding in every direction?

Notice me still in my pajamas at LUNCH TIME?

And yet—Richard still took the time to make me my favorite lunch.

(Love really is blind.  Or simply my husband.  But my lunch was definitely good!)

The most important thing I learned was this:  despite the beauty or despite the lack of it (aka me), the precious gift Richard gave me was service.

A friend (or husband or wife) loves at all times…