Yesterday was my husband's 46th birthday. We had a low-key day at home, he got his thank-yous out and we went to a nice Mexican dinner and then walked home (all told, it was about 1 hour and 45 minutes of walking).
And so, today, here's a blog entry for him (Mr. jespah). He reads these (although usually a few days later, 'cause he likes to see all of your comments), so he will see this.
And the words that keep coming up, over and over again, are thank you.
Thank you for being supportive.
Thank you for not giving me any crap about not moving too fast, or not losing fast enough, or that I'll lose my curves or some other such nonsense.
Thank you for hanging in there while, for a couple of years, I took alli and our meals were becoming irrevocably altered.
Thank you for not going out to eat when the calories just didn't work for me. Thank you for being cool with me wearing a swimsuit at not only size 14 but also at size 26.
Thank you for listening to me rant. Thank you for walking with me, and reconnecting, which is pretty dang romantic.
Thank you for reading my blogs and picking up my perspective on things, a bit removed sometimes, as I try to make sense of it all.
Thank you for trying new foods. You finally like onions. You like fish. You like bulgur. You didn't grow up eating that way, and you're wonderfully cool with all of that now.
Thank you for reminding me that the gym doesn't just pay for itself so I'd best get out there and use it.
Thank you for coming up with better and better meal ideas. Thank you for tolerating a lot of similar meals as I tweaked and learned and figured them out. Thank you for eating the experiments.
Thank you for rolling with the punches and accepting the changes.
It is not hard to say what it is I see in you.
It's easy to say it, and easy to see it.
Plus the goatee is kick-bun awesome.