Even with my substitution, they were still disgusting.
Okay that might be a little dramatic, but they failed my basic test for a good cookie. To be a success, the cookie absolutely must taste better once it's done than the ingredients taste when eaten individually. I would definitely have preferred to eat a handful of oatmeal, a banana and some shriveled up grapes to these very disappointing blobs. (I now refuse on moral grounds to refer to them as cookies.)
Speaking of synergy and grapes... one November many years ago, over a bowl of (non-shriveled up) grapes, this tall, cute, kinda nervous guy came over and introduced himself. It took guts, it took daring, and in all the chaos of that night, I almost forgot about it. Then, a few days later, that same gutsy, tall guy got my number from a friend and called me up to ask me on a date. No hemming, no hawing, no, "let's hang sometime." Just, "will you go out with me on Friday?"
I said no.
I had plans, so I asked for a raincheck. I am soooo lucky he didn't just hang up. When we did go out, there weren't fireworks. No bands played. There weren't even any singing frogs. In fact, it was pretty ordinary. We went to dinner at my favorite restaurant, and we talked. He suggested we go walk around a bookstore and I knew he was a smart guy. Because bookstores are (aside from cookies) the real key to my heart. I am kidding. Sort of.
From that rather ordinary beginning, we have created something extraordinary, and I owe it all to him.
Some days I am frazzled. Some days I am really, really frazzled. Some days I throw myself down on the floor and cry because things are hard. But every single day of our marriage I have been better, happier and felt more loved because of him. Unlike those diet blobs, Whitney and I are better together than we are apart. I will now pay him the highest compliment I can think to pay: he is one hot cookie.
How can I describe to someone who has never met Whitney what a joy he is to me? Or how he single-handedly made our family something special? I think I have one photo that sums him up, at least to me. He hates this photo because it shows that his hair was thinning on top. I love it, because it was spontaneous, and completely unfettered. (Also, he looks hotter now without any hair than he did when we met with a full head of hair. So there.)
This is a photo of him dancing in the moments after our first child was born. You can see his joy for life, and the absolute abandon with which Whitney T. Baker loves. He took a poor little broken brat, who had been in a miserable marriage, who had then mucked around, not quite sure how to make a beautiful family, and he was patient. He glued me back together. He sanded me down. He glued me again. He waited and then he painted a little here and a little there. He sat out my tantrums and patiently waited (or should I say waded? haha) through my issues. I don't know what I would have been without him, but I am so glad I never had to find out.
I recall this one moment, a few years ago, when I took a moment and just looked around my life. I saw my beautiful home, my adorable and beloved children, my fuzzy animal, my loving family, and my handsome, funny, supportive husband and I just felt this overwhelming feeling of serendipity. Somehow I lucked into meeting and attracting the attention of this man. A man who swoops in and does anything I need, without complaining. This man who earns a good living, is humble, is kind, is sensitive and who really listens. This man who cares about people, who gets up with kids, who changes poop, who takes care of my sick babies and who will give up anything and everything for me and his family.
Honestly, I have seen a lot of guys fall short of Whitney, and I have thought that I must be the only woman in the world who is quite as lucky as I am.
But lately, in the last few months, I've been blessed to see quite a few friends whose husbands have done similarly impressive things. It makes me so happy to see other men who have supported their girlfriends or wives, cared for them, and cherished them in much the same way that mine does. I have come to believe that although guys like this do not promote themselves, maybe Whitney isn't totally alone in always doing the impossible. Maybe I'm not the only one with a husband who is always there for her, who is the rock of their family.
Valentine's Day has always been my favorite holiday, right after Christmas, because I adore the idea of having a day to celebrate all the love in my life. (Also, I love pink and I love sparkles, and that's sort of the Valentine's day theme.) I love my God, my husband, my family, my friends. I love America, and my pets, my opportunities. I love reading and writing and I love singing and crafts. I love TV, swimming, cooking, working out. I love a lot of people, a lot of places, a lot of things. I love celebrating all the joys that make up a very happy and blessed life. I see Valentine's as a corollary to Thanksgiving but less about food and more about living.
As I think about all those people, and places and things that I love, they all come back around to Whitney. When my faith in God has waned, or I have wavered, he was there to steady me, to bear his testimony and to buoy me up. When my frustration with our kids has gotten out of hand, he helps me relax, and see the beauty. When I need a break from kids, he gives me one. When I am happy with them and smiling and full of joy and wonder, he is there with me, soaking their little personalities in right alongside me. When I need to do something for myself, like write or do legal work, he supports me in that. When my family needs help, or his does, he is there, doing it, cheering me on, getting things done.
With all my talking and even with my chronic surfeit of words, I don't think I could ever articulate quite the right ones to encompass the depth and the breadth of the love and appreciation I have for the joy that Whitney brings me, just by being the man that he is. He has taught me what love is: a verb, an action, a dedication to something and someone. He is as steady as the moon, and yet, like the moon, he is always changing.
On this happy heart day, I would encourage you to share with me, with that person, and with the world the joy you have in your Whitney. Tell him (or her) that you love them, and why. Don't get hung up on the flowers or the fancy-ness of the dinner venue. Put your phones down and look around at the world. Talk about what you want to change (together) and what you appreciate that you've already built. And I would love to hear about the one you love, and how he is (almost) as fabulous as my Whitney T.
I don't usually include photos, but here's one of me and Mr. Perfect from our family photo shoot not long ago. I am so grateful for this man, and the choices we made that have led to our family!
Happy Love day!
Bridget
PS- If you forgot to make reservations someplace fancy, you can join Whitney and I at the Waffle House. If you're lucky, there will still be room.
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