True love paints your toenails

I've never cared much for the word "lucky."  Maybe it's because I've never thought I was a "lucky" sort of person.  It's rare that I'll ever win anything or find money laying in the street.  I never get the parking spot up close, the light always turns red when I want it to stay green, and I've never had a winning lottery ticket.  Though to be fair, I've never played anything other than a scratch-off before either. 

If there even is such a thing as luck, I don't know if I believe in it.  Because when it comes to the really good things in my life, I don't consider it luck that I have them.  I consider them a blessing.

Someone told me the other day that I was lucky to have a man like Todd.  And I felt myself bristle to the word, because am I really "lucky" to have him?  Did by some chance the universe hand me a brilliant deck of cards when he came in to my life and it was by complete chance that we ended up together?  I've always thought that our meeting and our relationship was divinely orchestrated and had it been left up to "luck" I don't think either of us would have ever found each other.

I've felt mushy lately when thinking about him.  Maybe it's because I'm hormonal and extra-sentimental these days.  Tears flow easily and my mood swings are off the charts at any given time.  But, whether it's pregnancy or life or just who he is - I'm aware of this amazing man I'm married to and I've felt over-the-moon with gratefulness.

He's a trooper.  I've been sick for what feels like an eternity, struggling with allergies or a cold or congestion that comes with pregnancy - I don't really know what.  But it's taken a toll because I'm not sleeping and because I'm not sleeping, he's not sleeping.  And my lack of sleep has turned me in to a crazy person so I'm up crying and freaking out about the end of the world and the financial cliff and troubles in the middle east and wondering if I'm going to have a heart attack at 2:00am every night.  (Perhaps I should quit watching the news?) I'm a chaos-creator and he knows it.

But in all of my crazy-making due to this sickness I've been trying to shake off, he's stuck it out and still manages to find places to show his love for me even though I know I've gotten on his last and very sleepy nerve.

The other night he painted my toenails for me.  My belly isn't quite big enough to be in the way of doing it just yet, but I was tired and kept complaining about how ugly my toes were.  So he got out the nail polish and treated me to a little pedicure. 

This came after doing half of the Christmas decorating even though it's so not his thing.  And after doing the dishes and giving Tommy a bath and a hundred other things he steps up to do because they need doing and because he cares about me.  Because how Todd shows love is through doing and through actions and serving.

It's taken me a few years to gripe about the lack of flowers or mixed CD's full of love songs that he might compile or planned-out romantic date nights.  But I've been able to see that his love for me spills out of him daily in all of his doing if I stop and notice.  And I guess I've done a lot of stopping and noticing lately.

And what's having a blog if I can't brag and boast on the love of my life?  He really is a keeper. Maybe I am lucky to have him.  Either way, he's all mine.  And I'm very, very grateful.