Husband of the year

My husband is pretty fantastic most of the time. I mean he's the husband they put in movies who gets me flowers just because, likes to cook, helps with the housework & is an amazing dad. We're not perfect by any means...he still screws up & I still screw up, but we're perfect for each other. What did he do to get an entire mushy blog post? He spent his Wednesday (you know the one where he's supposed to do something for himself & recharge) compiling a surprise for me. It's no secret things have been rough here with little teether, who is now sick, and I've been in a funk of mom failure. I realize it's not my fault Zach's uncomfortable & unhappy, but it's tough to have no idea how to make it better. So Matt comes home from his Wednesday (z is still awake & screams if I'm not holding him an hour after bedtime) with flowers, wine, Milano cookies, Ben & Jerry's ice cream & a card. I'm not too proud to admit I cried. I don't know what I did to deserve this guy. I promise to remember this when I want to strangle him when he leaves his socks on the floor or whiskers all over the bathroom