Dear James,

Sometimes I show my love in, shall we say, interesting ways. You know what I mean. I might, for example, send the children to you with their most horrifying diapers/pullups/potty training nightmares. Perhaps I "let" you do this dishes every night and then go in after you and re-clean a little. (Though my axiom "she who cooks does not clean" works pretty well for the most part). I may have, though please understand I will neither confirm nor deny my culpability, placed an ice cube on the small of your back while you were sound asleep that one time.

You can think of these things as my little love notes.

But I also want you to know that I am so proud of you. I know how difficult this move has been, especially with the job falling through; then that flirty and fun five weeks with no income was also quite special. I know sometimes you wish we never would have come here, and sometimes so do I, but we are both learning to step out of our comfort zones aren't we? Do you REALIZE I shopped with coupons? Ahem. This isn't supposed to be about me.

Anyway, not only am I proud of you for making the best of this situation for yourself but also continuing to be a rock solid foundation on which all of us find rest; I am also really really impressed. Perhaps it is a flaw in my character, but I would have too much pride to put my fancy pants degree on the shelf and apply for a job at Subway. But you did. I wouldn't want to think about taking my extensively educated self and working along high school dropouts doing landscaping at houses like the one we used to live in. But you did. I certainly wouldn't want to apply for a job selling cars, which I've never done before, know nothing about, and am frankly a little out of my element doing, but you did. And thank the Lord, you got the job!

Did you ever think we'd celebrate over two thousand dollars a month? Plus commission of course. Did you ever imagine how much fun it would be to celebrate by making a big fort out of blankets in the living room, eating grilled hamburgers, and watching Finding Nemo with the kids? Who knew mess could be so awesome? (If you tell anyone I said that, I will deny it). We've kind of been knocked off our high horse for awhile, but I kind of like it down here. I think this is a blessing in disguise for our whole family. Of course, it's easier to say that now with a little bit of money trickling in.

I know things will pick back up again. You'll pick that degree up off the shelf, dust it off, and get back into the "real world" again. There will be fancy clothes and fancy parties. Private schools and tennis lessons and horseback riding. I'm glad for that. You worked hard for what we have/had, you will work hard again. You're working hard now. My point is, in whatever convoluted way I'm saying it, our lifestyle is nice, but it isn't important to me. If/when we get back to the "country club" life, that's great. If you sell cars at this dealership until you retire? That's just as great with me.

I'm so proud to be your wife. I love you.

-Me

PS - I'm still not doing the dishes tonight.