18 Reasons Why I Love Being Married

Lately I've been thinking about just how much I love my smokin' hot hubby and how crazy-good this thing called marriage can be. I love being married, so much more than I ever believed I could. Just because I enjoy blogging in list form, here are the reasons why:

• He is smokin' hot. I really really love that he is a big guy. Whenever I hug someone skinny I'm always afraid that I will break them. I don't know if my ego could take being married to someone who is smaller than me. It's also really sexy that he has arms the size of most guys' thighs.
• He can fix just about anything.
  
• It's great to share the experience of raising my kids with someone who loves them as much as I do.
• That being said, it's good to know that there is someone who will commiserate with me on days when I contemplate the demise of one or more of my children.
• I honestly believe that he finds me attractive, no matter how I feel about myself. He may need some professional help for that, but it sure as shootin' won't be me who points that out to him!
• He makes me laugh. A lot.
• He laughs at me, sometimes when I don't intend for him to find me funny.
• He reminds me that no matter how bad things may seem, life will go on and we will face it together.
• He is an awesome dad. He will change diapers on his own accord. I don't even have to ask. Really!
• He also loves to play with kids. I spend most of my time alone with the adults at family gatherings because Morgan is playing with the kids.
  
• Whenever he does something really dumb, I can laugh at him and he'll laugh right along with me.
• He will usually share the burden of cleaning up whichever bodily fluid has found its way from a child or pet to the carpet or furniture.
• He occasionally will wash dishes or do laundry, even though that is technically my job.
• Even though he doesn't enjoy it, he will go fabric shopping with me and even pretend to be interested in which fabrics go together best.
• He never chides me for stuffing my face with things that I shouldn't.
• He always compliments me on my cooking and thanks me for the meal, even if it's just a warmed-up can of soup.
• He narrates what he imagines our non-talking children (and pets) must be thinking. Hilarious. Each one also has a very distinct way of talking, i.e. a lisp or accent. I've found myself saying, "Since when has Jack had a Spanish accent?"
• He takes the whole package of me - good stuff, bad stuff, stuff yet to come - and he loves me.
  

I could go on and on, but I don't want any of my readers to be jealous. : )