The little things

I think it's the little things that make love work. Last night, as I sat on the couch holding a sleeping baby who is having a hard time napping in her crib since she's still feeling sickly, I was so achey and tired and hungry. I seem to be finally catching little Miss E's cold, though the only thing that's hit me so far is the fever-type acheyness, which I am really susceptible to. I was hungry because I have been hungry for over a year now. ;) (Poor M, he went from having a wife with major eating angst because of the metformin-induced queasy to one that wants to eat all the time.) We were talking on the phone as he drove home and discussing that, and also how I have felt terrible because I've not been able to take care of him much while he's been sick, what with the baby being sick too, and now he is feeling better just as it's hitting me. When he made it home, he went right away to the kitchen, where he cut up potatoes (and an onion! I always cut up the onions here because they make his eyes hurt, so it was extra sweet) and put them on the stove for potato soup for my dinner. Then he took the (now awake) baby so I could finish up the soup and eat. He doesn't even like potato soup, by the way--he had a little leftover ham for dinner. But what better than soup when you're feeling bad, and for me--what better than potatoes?!

That reminded me of something else I have thought about posting for six entire months now/ I haven't really known how to word it so that it makes sense. Do you know what the possibly sweetest thing M has ever done for me was? He opened the window blinds for me six months ago. I was a sobby mess for a little while after Evelyn was born. I know that it's not uncommon, and I knew that it was normal even then. Everything was just so overwhelming right then, and I had a bit of lingering horror over the whole birth/surgery thing. It's kind of hazy now, to be honest. M had a week off of work, but then he had to go back, and my mom had gone home, and I was really, really afraid of being alone with the baby all day long. My mom offered to come back, but I knew I had to do it sooner or later anyway, so I told her no. M promised that he would come home anytime if I needed him. When I got up in the morning with the baby, he had already opened all of the blinds in the house and turned all of the lamps on in the living room. There's no overhead light, so we have a lot of smaller light sources, which also means that we tend to be too lazy to turn all of them on, and until this summer, we almost never had the blinds open in the three windows of the living room. It's just a matter of practicality--you have to close them in the evenings, and we weren't even getting home until five o'clock, so we just weren't in the habit of doing it. It was a fine May day, the sun was shining and the living room was bright and cheery. He had been thinking of what he could do to elevate my mood, and sitting around in a dim house is depressing, so he made sure that I had the best possible start on my day--and it totally worked. I was in a much better mood because of all the natural light and because I was able to see green trees and birds and hanging plants outside. I've opened the blinds nearly every day since, and I think about M, and how he opened them that one day for me, almost every time. I can't even explain it, but it was so sweet, and so unexpected, and it worked so well, that I keep thinking about how much better it made a hard day for me. Being married to someone who thinks about you like that, and is always trying to make the hard things better in any tiny way possible.. that's just about the best thing in the world.

The other best thing is sleeping at the moment--I hope she feels better when she wakes up.