Don't Forget to Tell Him

Last night, my husband and I had an argument.  Frustrated and boiling over with stress after a tough week of business travel, and illness that ran through our son, me, and our sitter, we were at an impasse.

Somewhere along this venting session, one of us said something to make the other laugh.  Before I went upstairs for bed, I took his face in my hands and I said, "Babe, I want you to know that I think you are an outstanding husband and stellar father.  No matter what, and no matter how mad I am at you, that is always true.  You are the husband I always wanted and I love you.  I love you very much."

I watched his face transform.  I saw tears blinked back.  And I saw an expression in his face I did not expect to see.

Surprise. 

At that moment I realized I have not said those words nearly enough.

My husband is an entrepreneur, and being married to someone without a guaranteed paycheck (or as guaranteed as a corporate job may be) is often challenging.  I'm not proud to say that I have not always been supportive, and have even selfishly laid on the guilt trips on purpose to make him feel badly that I cannot yet have the lifestyle I want, like a spoiled brat.  In fact, in a post-pregnancy hormonal panic, I begged him, crying, to let me quit my job and stay home with our son.

In moments of clarity, I can see why he stays firm.  While the benefits and income are not rolling in at this moment, the path to our future is clear.  The investments of time and money he is making are going to pay off, and hopefully, relatively soon.  For now, that means I maintain a full-time job to pay our immediate bills. There is proof that he is strategic and incredibly far-sighted about our goals:  before we married, I had five figures of credit card debt.  With his guidance, I freelanced side marketing jobs nights and weekends in order to pay it all off.  All by myself.   Now the only debt we have is our house in Georgia, and we rent in Austin to avoid the danger of having two mortgages. 

I sometimes resent it.  I sometimes start fights with him about it to share my frustration, as unfair as that may be.  But deep in my heart, I always, always believe in him.  He is smart, he is strong, and he has a vision and passion for this company that transcends what I want - what both of us want - right now.  And ultimately, it will pave the road for a bright future as a family.

Our first Christmas together

Together we made the decision for him to quit his job and start his own company in 2006, and together we'll take this journey in the direction we want to go.  It has taken a few turns and reinventions, and every year he gives me a "state of the union" Shaw Annual Report, complete with charts and graphs and commentary about our progress as a family.   I read it carefully for two reasons:  one, he took the time to put this together in a format I can easily understand; and two, because he always shares some sweet sentiment outside of the numbers and graphs.

This year, in the summary, he included, "We have a happy home filled with laughter, and that is the most important thing of all." 

So right, honey... you're so right.

I won't make any grand promises that I won't get impatient, or frustrated, or moody.  I will, however, read my own words and do a better job of remembering that our life is pretty awesome as it is, even before the Grand Master Plan is fully implemented.   It's easy to assume on a daily basis that your loved ones know how much they mean to you, but they might not. 

Tonight, I'm going to remember to tell him again. 

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