Do what you gotta do
Appreciation was not a trait I possessed growing up. Neither was humility, but that's a different story. Sure, there were various techniques to learn appreciation I would try, mostly in an effort to learn how not to hate myself, but they were short-lived and rarely heart-felt.
Lately, though, I've started to appreciate the smallest parts of my life in a way I didn't, couldn't, before. I've begun to recognize just how fortunate I am in a lot of my life. I hate to admit that out loud, though, with the whole "Don't jinx it!" sort of mentality. I want to believe, however, that I'm past that sort of thinking, and willing to state that life is pretty good at the moment.
Kris is a big part of that. I'm not sure why he stuck with me through some of the rough patches in the last few years, but I'm really, really, really happy he did. I guess, in retrospect, they weren't that bad of rough patches. Then again, at the time, they were the worst point ever, and only with rose colored glasses can I say they weren't.
Kris does so many little things that add up, overwhelmingly so. I'm finally aware of just how many there are, and appeciate each one when I learn of them.
The other day, I wanted to clean the kitchen, but needed to unload the dishwasher before filling it again. As my dad can tell hundreds of stories about, I hate washing dishes. With a passion unequaled in the Western world. I was dreading putting away the dishes from the dishwasher, before loading it back up and washing the pots. I don't know what it is about dishes: I don't like unloading the dishwasher, but loading it is fine.
Weird.
So, I went to unload the dishwasher on that morning, and discovered Kris had already unloaded it. Yay! All I had to do was load it up and wash the pots. Hooray! Calloo, callay! I made sure to thank him that evening. He laughed.
Then, there was his acceptance, despite his (huge, big, ginormous) reservations, of my purchasing a house near one of my childhood homes. After expressing incredulity at my decision, coupled with the month delay before I told him about it:
"You're drunk? Great, I have something to tell you that I've been meaning to tell you for a month now."
"You're pregnant."
"Nooooo... I bought a house."
"You bought a house?"
"Would being pregnant be better?"
he accepted the decision and has asked how do we make it work. I explained the finances, and the logistics, and how it would work. He looked at me, let me know it was okay, and said, "140k. Either way."
Either way. Indeed.
He takes the garbage out, and heckles me when I forget to put the bag in the trash can on that rare occasion when I take the garbage out.
On Thursday, he accepted my decision when I told him I wasn't going to Colorado with the team. The tournament isn't an official Mischief tournament, and I think the women's team has enough ladies without me, and I really didn't want to travel, and really wanted to be home. Feelings of guilt set in as I dashed to an appointment at 2:00, thinking maybe I had made the wrong decision to stay at home. When I returned from the appointment and expressed reservations, he gave me a hug and said, "Stay. Do what you gotta do."
How did I get so lucky? I swear, all that heartache and pain of my youth must have been payment for this relationship.
Payment in advance, apparently.