For my dude, my heart, my smeegle.

I know that the ratio of great deeds Georgie does to the amount of thank you's I give is slightly disproportionate.  It's not that I don't say thank you often enough because I try to make a conscious effort to notice every little thing he does and acknowledge said deeds.  I just don't feel like a quick "thank you" for the majority of things he has done is an adequate acknowledgement of the true happiness he brings to my life and the life of our daughter.  Speaking of the monster we created, let me start off by explaining just how appreciative I am that he is the father and partner he is, because in my opinion, that's of the utmost importance and greatly outweighs anything he could ever buy or do for me.  He has been a truly fantastic father from the moment I told him I was pregnant, which is a moment I think bears mentioning.

Georgie and I took a very relaxed approach to baby-making and didn't consciously try to have a baby, but didn't do anything to prevent conception.  Basically, we had a copious amount of unprotected sex in a short amount of time, knowing that we could potentially become pregnant, and felt like that would be ok with us at the time.  We had discussed the mind-blowing concept of having children one night while our tummies were filled with psilocybin mushrooms.  To us, the idea of bringing together half of our own DNA and half of the DNA of the person we adored most in life to create a little person was amazing.  We were financially stable, very much in love, and thought the idea of creating a baby together was pretty swell.  Oh, to be 21 again. The day I realized I might be pregnant, I took a test and surely enough that little digital screen let me know there was a microscopic ball of cells forming in my uterus.  When I saw Georgie later that day, I had the test saved in a ziploc bag and sneakily retrieved it from my purse, held it up and asked him if he still wanted to be a daddy.  The smile on his face quelled any fear I may have had.  We cuddled for the next hour, giggling like idiots, and ran to my mom's house so she could have an overjoyed, crying meltdown at the idea of being a mommom.

To me, Georgie's smile, his actions, and his words immediately after finding out we were to be parents in 8 short months were all the first gifts he gave me being my partner in raising Stella.  Not once did I ever feel "alone" while I was pregnant, because he was right there beside me, or rubbing my back when it was aching, or talking to Stella through my stomach, feeding me nightly food cravings (caffeine-free orange soda by the GALLON, homie) or dealing with my pregnant, hormonal wrath without one fuss or complaint.  There were times I wanted to punch myself in the face when my moods were uncontrollable, if that's indicative at all of the sainthood that surely awaits George Galvin Rose III in his afterlife for dealing with my crying/yelling/throwing things at walls pregnancy tantrums.  I almost feel guilty when I hear a pregnant woman complain about her partner being aloof because I feel forced to tell the woman the old adage that I'm assuming is supposed to make her feel better [see:  not murder her partner or random men], "women become mothers at conception, men become fathers when they see their child."  Because for a LOT of couples, this seems to be the case, which is why I feel kinda guilty that I had such a ridiculously awesome dude gladly waiting on my every want and need.  I think in Georgie's mind, he became a dad the second he saw the ClearBlue test strip in my hand that read "pregnant," and didn't need to see a child vacate my uterus to realize there was one in there whom he was going to be responsible for.  I attribute this to his unconditional love, his compassion, and his willingness to do for others without asking for anything in return.

Once Stella vacated aforementioned uterus, George fulfilled every dream and [very-well hidden] expectation I had of him as a father.  Diapers?  Changed her first poopy one at the hospital.  Waking up with her?  Stayed home from work for 2 weeks getting up in the middle of the night with her.  Understanding?  Once he went back to work, he came home every day and asked me to go take a nap, because he knew I had a horrible recovery from labor.  Dinner and cleanup on nights I'm exhausted?  Consider it taken care of by Chef Boyar-Rose.  Running errands for me because Stell has colic and couldn't be taken anywhere?  He'd run to 5 different places until he ran out of gas getting anything we needed.  Georgie is a man who is never too tired, and if he is, he wouldn't tell you.  He's the type of man to come home from working a double at an absolutely insane job and ask me if I need anything, and isn't just asking to sound nice because he knows I'll answer honestly if I'm jonesing for a snack.  He has been known to make me snacks and the perfect cup of coffee, he will wake up early on the weekends with Stella and have her help make me breakfast and serve it to me in bed (complete with tea, napkins, fresh fruit, the works).  He tries to make things easier for me every chance he gets, whether its handling something on his own by taking a responsibility off my shoulders or doing something special for Stella that I wouldn't normally be able to do on my own (like hang her ever-problematic chalkboard closet doors).  He wakes up at a ridiculous hour to get to his stressful job by 6am.  He calls me throughout the day and interrupts said insane job of his just to ask me how my day is going.  He texts me to tell me I'm beautiful, to tell me how much he appreciates me as his future wife and as the mother of his child, and to say how much he misses me and how excited he is to come home to us.

Georgie notices every little thing I do as a mom, and doesn't let me think for a second that he doesn't see any or all of it.  He has infinite patience with me as a newcomer to the wonderful and intimidating world of cooking (he may not always show it because he takes over what I'm working on frequently, but I know it's his way of trying to help and avoid the inevitable breakdown I'll have if I ruin dinner).  He always compliments my dinners and actually thanks me for making them.  He laughs at my jokes, tells me daily how adorable and funny I am, how much he loves his life with me in it and how he couldn't ask for more than what he has.  He thanks me for giving him his gorgeous and intelligent daughter, as though I managed it all on my own.  He rarely takes credit for anything, and is totally willing to encourage me to think I'm the best thing since sliced bread, because he thinks I am too :] 

This is every day of my life.  I know, what a lucky bitch, right?

Truth be told, I have no idea what I did in a past or present life to deserve being treated like a queen.  Every morning I wake up, it's in a wonderful bed, in a wonderful home, knowing I am loved, appreciated, and thought of almost always.  Even though I don't contribute to our home with an income, Georgie tells me every day how much he appreciates what I contribute as a mother, a future wife, and a homemaker, which he says is invaluable.  And I'm perpetually appreciative and impressed by how incredibly hard he works and how often.  A lot of women become mother and breadwinner because the fathers of their children never stepped up to the plate.  I applaud those women with a respect that I can't even verbalize because I could not imagine performing this job in addition to Georgie's.  To be able to go to sleep every night not having to worry about whether or not Georgie will live up to the expectations a providing father is held to is one of the greatest luxuries I've ever enjoyed, and no amount of thank you's I could dole out would ever be able to express the true gratitude I have for him.  Despite what has to be the utter exhaustion he feels after work, he still comes home in a great mood, usually joking and always being the silly kid he is inside.  I'm sure he has to be stressed, because while we're doing ok for people our age who bought a home and have a child, finances are of course tight.  But you wouldn't know it to talk to him.  Georgie doesn't let me worry about anything, and being the paranoid, stressed-for-sometimes-no-reason-at-all type of person I am, it's impressive now that I think of how stressed I'm not over things like that...and it's because of how much trust he allows me to have in his ability to take care of us.

Sometimes I hear how often all three of us say I love you to each other in a day, and I honestly get overwhelmed with just how lucky I am.  Very basic things like running water, heat in the winter and things we were able to afford that provide great convenience to my life are all things I think about every day and try to show appreciation for.  But even those things I could try and do without, whether it be in a cardboard box or a studio apartment or a mansion, it doesn't really matter.  As long as I have my dude who tells me daily how much he loves and appreciates me, and my daughter who gives me the very best bear hugs imaginable, I'm the happiest girl on the planet.  We aren't perfect people and we're not a perfect family.  We don't do everything perfectly as people or parents and we certainly make our fair share of mistakes in almost all the roles we play in life.  But at the end of the day when I'm walking into our beautiful bedroom knowing that I'm laying down next to my best friend who holds me every night without fail and never lets me fall asleep before I kiss him goodnight, nothing else in the world could possibly matter in that moment.  Even after writing this, I still don't feel like it does justice to how grateful I am to him and how much I cherish every second of my life that he is a part of it.  He says he loves me more, but one day I'm gonna find a way to trump that.

I love you, Galvin.  The day I found you skating at Bradlee's as teenagers, the day I leave the planet and every single day in between.

<3