I don't write much about Shawn on my blog because, really, what is there to say? He is so constant, so steady, so ready to rub a foot, or change a diaper, or squash a spider, it would seem like bragging.
Husbandness is Shawn. Shawn was born to be a husband. My husband, such a gift.
He is quiet but thoughtful. He is intelligent and modest. He is expressive but reserved. Shawn loves fatherhood like I love motherhood and we have joined together almost seamlessly as parents.
He lets me plan for Christmas tree placement in September. When I mentally move our family to London for a year, he goes with it and even helps me decide whether we'll store our furniture or sell it. Shawn eats fake meat on pizzas and on tacos with a smiling gulp.
Tonight, Shawn went to Birdy's to see Trampled by Turtles and I wanted to go but sitter money always seems frivolous and it was a late show (9p.m. start--yes, I am OLD), and it just didn't come together. I kinda miss weeknight dates to smokey bars to hear traveling bands with my blue eyed sweetie. I like seeing him navigate the crowd to find us a suitable spot to watch the show only to work his way right back to fetch me a beer. I love the way he'll drum his fingers on my shoulder sort of off beat when he really gets into the music. Shawn introduced me to bluegrass--a music I have come to love--and I like to see new bands with him.
I hope he's having fun. In the meantime, I am going to fall asleep in the shape of an X on the bed. I need some consolation, after all.
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