Three

Three is the atomic number of lithium. I looked that up to impress a boy.

It is also the number of years since the day I met that boy. On the first anniversary of the day we met I wrote him a letter, 365 reasons why I loved him. On the second anniversary I wrote him another letter, cleverly titled 365 more reasons.

365 More Reasons Even…. That’s 1,095 but who’s counting?

You always eat the heels of the bread.
You understand why I like to sit close to you on the couch.
You really love my dog.
You stayed up late so many nights and planned our wedding.
You actually had a lot of opinions.
You fucking love sharks.
You like to plan the famly’s dinners.
You go to the grocery store with a list.
You call me on the way home from work to see if we need something.
You almost always text me when you have arrived safely somewhere. And before you depart.
You are brave.
You make great banana bread.
You have a pile of recipes jammed in a book that I am sure you know by heart.
You really hate it when something goes bad in the fridge.
If I saute some garlic in butter you think it is the best meal ever.
You will love your t-shirt quilt when it is all finished.
On this year, our third anniversary I am more than certain you will tear up while you read this. And that makes me smile.
I think you work hard while you’re at work.
Speaking of work, the pile of safety glasses in your car is adorable.
You love my meatloaf.
Even when there are carrots in it.
You go out for ice cream after Em is in bed.
I love it that you don’t particularly care that I am not wild about Cat. It makes me feel like if someone close to you said they didn’t like me you’d say “Oh, well too bad for you, I love her.”
Either you changed a setting on your CGM or it doesn’t beep all night now or it just doesn’t wake me up anymore. I don’t care what it is. But I love you for not beeping like a robot all night.
You agreed to go somewhere warm on our honeymoon.
You didn’t mind that I read six books that week.
You went for sushi on my birthday this year even though I know you weren’t very hungry.
You dressed up as the White Rabbit for Halloween last year.
And were so down with the family Halloween theme.
You suggested we go ziplining this year.
AND then you made it happen.
You like to wear a suit.
And you look pretty smokin’ in one.
You made cookies with Emily last year at Christmas time.
You teach her about the science of baking.
You wore the Christmas family pajamas and let me take pictures.
You look like Michael Weston in your sunglasses.
You are so sappy.
At the Whitley’s wedding when you introduced Em and I to people you looked so proud of us.
You love the Science Experiment toy we got her as much as she does.
You are really proud of Emily.
Rumor has it you let her goof around for a bit on the playground when you pick her up from school.
She loves this.
You ask me if I read an article on a metal blog like you think I might say yes.
You had a killer time on your metal cruise.
But you acknowledged that you might be growing up.
Get ready for the wedding related battery of reasons I adore you. First and foremost, you married me.
You looked like a grown man and a little boy all at once that day.
You really kissed me after our “I do.”
You laughed with me during our ceremony.
The reading you chose was so perfectly you.
The playlist we put together of tunes was stellar.
Whenever I play it you ask me to burn it to a disk for you.
You danced with me like I was a princess.
You included Em in our wedding day.
But it was clear that it was our wedding, yours and mine.
You are so open and warm and ready to love my wacky army of friends.
You politely told our driver he was going the wrong way.
You didn’t think it was absurd that I wanted to wear my wedding hat on the plane the next day. Or a few days later on our honeymoon.
You might have thought it was absurd if you knew I had it on last night while I packed things at the old house.
You know in your heart of hearts that I can’t thank you enough for our wedding day.
You made my little girl wedding dream come true.
And even if little boys don’t dream about weddings, I think it was your perfect day, too.
You probably know that I will segue next in to some reasons that I love you that are baby related.
You made me a baby.
You held me while I cried and told me that if I couldn’t get pregnant it was okay.
And when we got pregnant in about four minutes you didn’t say “See, what was all that cryin’ about?”
You are reading books about babies and labor.
You looked so excited when you told your friends.
You were tearing up when we told Emily.
The day you heard the heartbeat … that day was so special to me.
You really want this baby.
You try and tell me not to worry. And for the most part you don’t make me feel like a nut for worrying anyway.
You are down with the family bed, no questions asked.
You don’t challenge my infant parenting ideas, telling me that Em turned out great so we should keep it up.
Whenever someone mentions my appearance, referring to my pregnancy you say “I think she looks great” and you smile and it melts me.
This pregnancy has made you softer.
I can’t imagine what this baby is gonna do.
You embraced the idea of the birthing center.
Your eyes do not visibly glaze over when I jabber on about breastfeeding.
Your eyes do glaze over when I jabber on about many other things. But you’re still there. In the room.
You giggle at night with me in bed.
You love scary movies.
You stay up all night watching netflix movies like a kid.
Sometimes I think you sleep on the couch on purpose. And that’s okay.
It never makes me wonder if you’re mad at me.
And that is probably a good sign.
Em says you like to sit on the couch but Mom likes to lie down.
I know you just give us all the room.
You leave your keys attached to your pants usually at night.
You are really serious about teeth brushing.
You resumed the eating of carbs. Bless your heart.
Your pre-honeymoon suit shopping extravaganza was adorable.
You’ll try on something if I say I really like it.
Speaking of shopping! The honeymoon night we had cocktails for dinner and shopped was so fun.
You’d smile and say “Then get it. Let’s just get it!” at everything we looked at.
You watch the Peanuts holiday specials with me.
And you pretend I watch them for Emily.
I think I told you in the last two lists how much I love your family, but I do. More and more.
Your parents.
Aislinn.
Nana. They all deserve their own number.
When we went to Boston this year and I was sleepy the night we went out to see your friends you didn’t mind that I went home early.
You are loving your Pregnancy Sobriety.
And not just because it saves us a small fortune.
You love rituals.
You always lock the doors.
You can be so hot tempered.
You respect the women that you work with.
You have embraced your checkered Vans.
I might as well throw out the 2011 “You have a great ass.” It didn’t make the first 100 this year. But not because I find it any less stunning.
You laugh it off when you destroy your electronics in water.
You really could give up your iphone.
You listened to Howie Mandel with me that day instead of reading your book.
You can chit chat or ride in silence in the car.
I hate the way you drive, but I do feel safe.
Oh! Speaking of safe, your safety glasses on the 4th of July.
You are the cutest dad.
A little rain won’t slow you down.
You truly appreciated your Alien birthday party.
You still hug me when I make you food.
You were so strong for me at my grandparent’s.
You held my grandfather’s hand for a moment when you met him.
Since you were the only one in the room that was not in denial you probably knew you’d not see him again.
But you never for a moment made that known.
You looked after Em that weekend almost exclusively so I could be there for my mom.
You smiled sheepishly when my grandmother said you were cute right in front of you.
You drove the golf cart. And let me take pictures.
You understand why family is such a high priority.
You make an excellent grilled cheese.
You let Emily’s father visit her in our home.
Even though he is my ex-husband.
You let my old friend Jeremy visit me in our home.
Even though he is my ex-husband.
You are gracious.
You are growing more patient with each year.
You taught Em to tie her shoes.
You almost never forget to kiss me goodnight.
You looked really excited to see Summer after she was born.
To see you hold a newborn for the second time, you looked more confident that when Gia was born.
I could see you mentally imagining our future.
You remind me of concerts I want to see.
You bought the family tickets to the Trans Siberian Orchestra at Christmastime! AWESOME idea.
I think you actually like Panic now.
I know you actually like the McMullens.
You didn’t think it was crazy when I suggested we look at the house across the street from them.
You are cautious but fearless when it is time to make a move.
You like a more rural life. Even though you are a city kid.
Our house… our home. You made it happen.
Next year’s list will be filled with moments that I loved you in our home. Where we will stay. And have a family.
You and the damn sweaters in the summer. They crack me up.
Our tattoos!! How did I leave them out? I love ’em!
You made Em’s birthday special for her.
Your family has traditions you pass on to her.
The ladies at the pre-school always made me feel so lucky to have found you, and they were right.
You are trying to download every song ever recorded.
You went to Ikea with me.
Twice.
You care about things in the house.
Much like our wedding I think our home will reflect who we are.
You think it is hilarious when you stab me with your toenails.
You took the kids to the corn maze and let me stay home.
You’re much better at parental chitchat with other parents than I am.
You are taller than me.
Your love affair with your overcoat still makes me swoon.
You can’t stand how I fast forward past the end of a commercial break.
But you still let me hold the remote.
The way you laugh at Tosh.0 is contagious.
Sometimes you mumble when you sleep.
You snuggle my Snoopy when you think I am not looking.
You don’t ever seem nervous.
My 35th birthday is one I will never forget.
You let it go now when I hurt your feelings.
So, I think you know I don’t mean to be hurtful.
You’ve told me in this next year you’ll help me be more mindful of you. And I hope you do.
When I finally pull my head out of my ass and I am ready to talk about somethign that is hard, you listen.
You love a good fart joke.
Or even a bad fart joke.
You are consistent.
You are proud and not boastful.
You are teaching me not to care so much about dumb shit.
You don’t mind when I read in bed.
Your notecards… I don’t know what it is about our notecards but they make me smile.
You were stoked to scan your documents.
You are so responsible.
You take the trash can out.
And you pull the trash can back from the curb.
You are generous.
Your hair is really soft.
I can recognize you from the back of your head from a hundred yards away.
You got rid of the vest.
You are tolerant.
You laugh at our Date Nights.
But you love them.
You hug me when I need it.
And when I don’t.
The way you grab my hands and wrap them around you makes me cry.
You make me crazy.
You don’t mind that I blab about my life which is really our life on the interwebz.
You don’t have a lot of secrets.
But you’ll take the ones you have to your grave.
You never make fun of me when I haven’t seen an internet meme before.
You Google Buzz.
You and maybe twelve other people world wide.
You play clacker with Emily.
You’ll sit with her at the table for hours.
You are and will forever be my last first date.
You love a Family Guy hug.
I think we have two pretty good baby names.
It was your idea not to find out the gender. And while it is maddening, I love it.
You think baby D is a girl.
And you are fine either way.
You unpacked your clothes at the new house and you have only one un-matching sock.
And you rarely match them. You are amazing.
You don’t pretend to feel baby moving when you can’t.
You don’t seem appalled by adoration of my new wig.
When I said I might cut of all my hair you said “Do it.”
You really don’t care about a lot of things if it makes me happy.
You never make the bed. And for reasons I can not fathom this does not annoy me. So it must be Love.
You are not bothered by my glowing phone in bed at 6 am.
You don’t question why I reconcile my checking account every morning before I get out of bed.
Your as tolerant of my neurosis as I am of yours.
You still make me nervous.
You fund your retirement account.
You take saving money seriously.
You sent me that Hitler Metallica video and it was super funny.
You talk to Fisher.
In his language.
You will totally have full conversations with the baby.
You smell good.
Even when you’re sweaty.
I can’t imagine a situation where you would want to go to a karaoke bar.
You bought Em flowers on her birthday.
You write cute things in cards.
You make an x over the i in Mike sometimes.
You encourage me.
You love to scare the hell out of Em.
You’re not disgusted by Fish’s slimey fox or his Snoopy.
You probably wouldn’t be upset if your list was late this year.
But I knwo you’d notice if you didn’t get one.
I am sure that I have repeats this year, but I am blaming Baby D.
When you ask em “What can I do?” you mean it.
Which is awesome because if I say “Go to the store and get me an XYZ” you go.
And I am learning that if I say “Nothing, I can do it myself” I have no one to blame but me if you let me do so.
You are everything to me.
But you have me convinced I could survive without you.
I think we’ll be married forever.
I think about that song “Book of Love” a lot. Abotu the video of the old people holding hands.
I can’t WAIT to see you mow the grass in your tube socks.
You might not have noticed, but your out loud bedtime reading voice is much more confident now.
When I hear you two giggle in her room it melts me.
You got your car repaired.
You told me you’d be in charge of my oil changes.
You notice when I get a new sticker on my car.
You will totally wear a baby.
And it will totally make me want to smooch you.
You will probably be more worried than I am about things like sunscreen and bugs and “did we bring an extra…” and it will be cute.
Your man purse will be packed with baby crap.
And you will take it everywhere.
When we go places you’ll say “I’ll hold him/her” so I can finish eating.
I will be on the couch with the baby, in tears, in my pajamas some day when you get home from work. Tearfully I will say “I don’t have dinner ready.” And you will probably kiss me and see if I want take out from somewhere you don’t even like.
You’re thoughtful like that. When it matters most.
You are not a cuddler while you sleep. But you don’t mind it when I scoot over on your side.
You know all the planets.
And how microwaves work.
And a lot of other SCIENCE!
You watch cartoons with Em.
When we let you “sleep in” you still get up and hang out with us.
I think you might actually get me a leaf blower for Christmas.
And not as a joke.
You know my feet reek. But you don’t bring it up too awful often.
You check your temperature when you don’t feel well.
You ask me fora doo-dad sometimes.
You are understanding of my total inability to articulate a thought lately.
When I need to just got to bed at 7 you take over.
When you brush Emily’s hair I can see how much you love her.
When I am scared at night and yiy’re asleep I sneak up next to you and hold on tight.
Sometimes you say “shhh shhh” in your sleep the same way you say it to Emily when she is crying.
You smile when I get excited when I get new lasses in the mail.
You seem to marginally understand my shoe obsession.
You love me.
You like me.
You know the difference.
You are funny and charming when we go out with people we don’t know well.
Your shoes are never untied.
You have a shoe polish holder.
You are committed.
You never seem to wonder if we’ll make it.

I owe you 77 more. It has been one hell of a week, the icing on the cake for the last year. I can’t imagine a more life changing time than the last year. Filled with joy. We made a marriage and a family. And a baby. And now we are making a home. I love you, Michael Quinn Doherty.

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