The sunshine of my life.

Here's to my favorite Veteran. . . . .

The B.H.E.

Here's what I'm reflecting on at this very moment:  This dude right here.

I overheard Harry speaking on the phone to a friend a few years ago about some relationship issues. The friend was trying to decide what to do with their significant other.  I craned my neck and listened to my stoic better half sharing his view on it all:

"It shouldn't be this hard.  When you wake up in the morning and open up the curtains, either it's sunshine or it's not. That doesn't take you too long to figure out. It's either sunshine or it's not."  

I almost broke down and cried.  This isn't something he ever would have said directly to me, but hearing this as his simple truth on lasting relationships and knowing that I am his point of reference touched me deep in my soul.  And made me love him more.

I won't pretend like we have this seamless marriage where bluebirds chirp all around us at all times. We certainly have our days where we fuss at each other about dumb things. . . . and not-so-dumb things, too. Yes, there are days that we pounce on nerves and ask passive-aggressive rhetorical questions that get answered by pillow fluffs and turned backs late at night.  But mostly, it isn't that way because underneath it all, we love and respect each other.  And you know what else? We like each other, too.

We've learned to not keep score and to speak the other person's love language whenever possible. My love language is "acts of service" while his bucket is 100% filled by consistent "words of affirmation." In other words, he give the boys a bubble bath and I tell him how wonderful he is for doing it. It's win-win.

Oh? You don't know about the love languages? Take the test here. It's genius, I tell you. Genius, y'all. Thanks to this book, I don't even bother with buying Harry gifts. I simply make him some macaroni and cheese and tell him he's an awesome father if I'm trying to keep him happy. Now that I think about it, this post might get me a new mini-van! (My other love language was "receiving gifts." Harry's was "acts of service"--so don't think he's doing everything around here while I flap my gums about how much I appreciate it.)

Anyways.

The point of this post?  No point really. It's just a clear explanation for why there is pep in my step and a slide in my glide. There's something about knowing you're valued that makes everything else go a little bit better. . . .and sure, that feeling should come from within. . . but dammit, it doesn't hurt to have somebody on your team helping you.

When I married Harry, I was already a grown-ass, dual board-certified physician. In fact, I joined the Grady faculty as Dr. Draper--not Dr. Manning and was known to many as just that. Changing my name would certainly be a hassle, and moreover, getting the residents, students, staff and patients to start calling me by another name would be a downright pain in the behind. Realizing what a production this could potentially be, I asked Harry how he felt about me keeping my maiden name.

And his answer was this (with a cute little shrug of his shoulders):


"I guess I was just hoping we could be 'Team Manning.'"

*sigh*

How do you say no to that?

The Originals of "Team Manning"

That's exactly who we've been ever since.

***
Now playing on my mental iPod. . . .for the sunshine of my life.