Today

Today I woke up with a migraine and my knight in a waffle weave long sleeve t-shirt came to my rescue. 

I felt it coming last night--the tension that creeps up my shoulders, the slight visual distortion that makes me feel like I'm working too hard to see.  I tried to head it off at the pass by going to bed at 8:45 but I woke up at 4 AM, head slamming.  I staggered to the bathroom and took some tylenol and ibuprofen, drank as much water as I could without throwing up and staggered back to bed, praying that it would all take effect by 6:00, which is when my day starts.  No such luck.

My wonderful husband does the night shift, you see.  I go to bed at 9:30 and he wakes Sam up at 11 for a bottle and then gets up with him at 4 or 5:30, whenever he wakes up again and decides he's hungry.  If Sam wakes up every hour in the middle of the night, it's Jeff who gets him, leaving me to sleep peacefully.  So when 6 AM comes, Sam is all mine and I think that's fair.  We have a whiteboard out in the hallway on which we write notes, to let each other know what's happened in the night.  This is what I woke up to this morning, squinting to see out of my one working eye:



See how great he is?  (The last line was added later in the day.)

I told this awesome man how terrible I was feeling and being familiar with my headaches, he at once told me to go back to bed.  "Are you sure?" I asked, feeling horribly guilty.  I knew I couldn't hold Sam, that I'd drop him, but I felt like I should be doing SOMETHING.  "Go!" he said.  "I've got it."  I went.  I took some more drugs, drank some more water and I went.

And that's kind of how it went all day long.  I had to vote, so I couldn't stay in bed all day and I HAD to go grocery shopping because we had no food in the house.  Jeff even offered to take the list AND SAM and go to the store for me but that would have been far too much.  I bulled through it, came home and collapsed again and once again Jeff took care of everything.  He hauled the groceries in from the car for me (I still couldn't lift anything without going dizzy and nauseous; thank goodness the commissary carries out for everyone) and he chased me back to bed.  He fed Sam, played with him, changed a diaper so nasty it made him barf, did everything.

And I know that it wasn't a chore because that is just who he is.  He loves being a father and he loves being my husband.  And I?  Love, love, love being married to this incredible man.  He is all mine and I could not be happier!