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Challenge: Romance After Kids

Today my husband cleaned my closet

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Today my husband cleaned my closet.

You may be thinking "big whoop."


If you are like me, you are thinking and gleefully exclaiming "this is a really BIG WHOOP!"

Why is it such a big deal that a man hung and folded his woman's clothes?

Because it was my busy man and my ridiculous amount of clothing that typically sits below our TV, right above my overstuffed dresser where I haphazardly throw it.

If it's not there, then it's messily lining the shelves and/or floor of our closet.

Why am I so sloppy and disorganized when it comes to keeping my room tidy, putting my clothes in neat piles and storing them where they belong?

I blame motherhood, life and my own easily distracted and ancy personality.

But, regardless of my cleaning habits (or lack thereof), the hubs, without being asked, cleaned up all my shiitake.


Because that's what good men do.

From the literal cleaning of my uncontrollable pee that soaked the hospital floor soon after my first child's birth to his cleaning of her spontaneous meconium (sorry, gross visual) geyser that lead to the laughter which lead to my insuppressible pee, he's been cleaning up after me and our kiddos for as long as I can remember.

I may complain that, more often than not, I am the one who must tend to all of tidying that our home, two dogs and three kids require, but the reality is, my man knows when I need him to step in and lend a hand.

Life is busy for all of us and with summer creeping up on us, there are no signs of it, the kids or me slowing down anytime soon.

This gesture of cleaning up our bedroom and all of my many clothes that it was hiding under was my husband's way of taking back that room for us and helping it re-become what it should always be -- a place with enough space for two people, who love each other very much and their two hearts who use that space to become one.

Some women think that love is diamonds, vacations, trips to spa and shopping sprees.

But, for me, right now in this stage of my life, love is a closet that is cleaned but wasn't cleaned by me.

It's my clothes in drawers, without me having put them there.

It's the uncluttered top of a dresser that houses a picture of my man and me.

Love may look different for you, but today, after ten-plus years of marriage and three kids, love looks my husband cleaning my closet.

Thanks, babe.

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