Love Language

These days some of my thoughts are too long for a Facebook status update so I thought I'd drop back in here and see what happens.

I was cleaning out some old file boxes today and came across some quizzes used to determine one's Love Language. How simple life once was.

When we were newlyweds, we had so few responsibilities! We had all the time in the world to deeply ponder if we felt more loved when our man put his arm around us at the BBQ or if writing us a note rocked our world.

How times have changed! We celebrated 16 years of marriage last weekend. Here we are now with five girls, one getting closer to launching every day all the way down to our Little Thing who is getting closer to nights without diapers! How on Earth am I supposed to know if a bear hug from Shane soothes my soul more than help with the laundry! I am up to my eyeballs in kid touches and dirty clothes, so I can't see past either one! Is his loving shoulder massage coming on the day he's finally home from working two 18 hour days in a row? If so, yeah, it's pretty nice. But I won't complain if he sees the housework and cat herding, ahem, I mean child raising is taxing me so he takes the kids to his mom's so I can enjoy some peace and quiet.

But I don't think that last one is even on the quiz. Why isn't there a "Peace & Pampering" love language? Maybe in this stage of family life, any single moment of something that appears even close to showing me you love me should count? I think so!

The Love Language concept is great, don't get me wrong. But these days I can't afford to keep up with how my husband is loving me. I know he does. He works a hard job (or two) to provide for us, he delights in the joys of having children in our home, he doesn't mind running to the store for the diapers I didn't realize we were out of, even if it is 10pm at night. So what if our anniversary was spread out over three days due to family life: Dinner one night, wine the next, and finally some alone time the third night. That's the way it goes, Baby, so you'd better just count your blessings, no matter how nitty gritty they are.

Just so you don't mistake this little post as coming from a woman on a high horse, today is Thursday. Thursday nights compete with the hour before church on Sunday morning as the hardest time of our week. I am ready for someone else to help with these kids. He is ready for some rest. Eh, doesn't line up so well. So, he's due home anytime. I forgot to thaw out the hamburger meat for dinner. This is life out here. It's a good life, but no high horses (but possibly some high mounds of horse poop!).