Sunday, 24 August 2014

My Husband - My Rock

I don't really mention Warren.

Not very much.

He doesn't like his picture taken and he doesn't like being in my blog. He is private...and pretty normal really. Unless I ask him to be involved then he is not bothered.

So there will be no photos of Warren here. Just some words and a representative image. Because he is my rock.

The best person that I know and have ever known.

So, first of all - the boring-ness about me...

I am happy but oh-so frigging busy. You know this. Work, studying, kids, house. I AM DEFINITELY THE BUSIEST PERSON THAT EVER LIVED. Only I'm not... it just feels that way. Now and again I properly break down, I can't cope and everything is too much. This is not easy, no-one said it would be, but I have times where I think that everything I am doing is wrong. I shake and I cry because it is too much.

Who could cope with living with someone like that? Really? I mean - this isn't about me, it is about my Rock. And guess what...I am unpredictable, a bit bonkers and strange...a lot of the time. And he is there. Always. This is what I am trying to say.

He will hate the fact that he is now doing an impression of a rock with ginger hair. Sssh don't tell him.

Earlier today I was thinking about his BAD POINTS.He is a massive pain in the behind.

1) I sometimes ask him to set the dinner plates out, so he does. Then I turn around, pans full of food ready to plate-up, only to discover that he has STACKED THEM! - How can I plate food out on stacked plates!! The bastard. Terrible, terrible flaw.

2.) He doesn't manage my expectations very well. He told me he would be home from the match at 9.30pm and he came in at 9.50pm. The bastard. Unacceptable behaviour.

But really, it didn't bother me and I usually do lists of five, but I struggle to get to 3 with his negatives.

Number 1 really pisses me off though. Stacked plates... really???

And so the positives scare me because I worry that really I am not good enough for this man who is so perfect for me in every way.

When I am sad and anxious and my mind is racing - he holds me. He doesn't need to say anything he just holds me still and stops me shaking.

He listens to me explaining how I am the busiest person that ever lived, and he nods and says how wrong it is even though he knows that I am being some sort of melodramatic freak.

He listens to me talk about the War and and how maybe we could change the world, and he knows what I mean even though it is bonkers.

He is 'The Daddy' to all our girls

Since I started my degree he has been there holding my hand and I said I would get first class and then do post-grad and that was six years ago, and even now he still says 'remember when you said...only a few months now' and he knows how much that means to me.

He has a better and more academic book shelf than me. OK, the science is boring but I can deal with that. But whenever I feel lost I can wander to his shelf and pick something up. (and put it back swiftly, of course.)

He is there in the night. We can cuddle close and I whisper "I love you." And he replies, the same and gives me a squeeze.

So this, a little post to the person who means the most to me.

I love him loads. Too many positives to list. These are just the ones that spring to mind.

I just wish he could put the frigging plates out like a normal person and not stack them.

The massive knob-head.


  1. Ahhh - My boy hates being in the blog (bar when he got a free weeding machine). I am mental. I shout and scream about stupid things and he just giggles but it makes me feel all safe. Ah. Love him xxx

  2. Ahh lovely* and you know what you deserve every bit of that amazing support and nothing less xxx
    *mostly lovely


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