Dear Husband,

You are a good man. But you drive me crazy. When you wake up from a solid night of sleep, yawn, and say “I am so tired,” I want to kick you.

When you track dirt into the house with your size 13 feet, leave crumbs on the carpet and feed our son marshmallows for breakfast, I find myself irrationally wanting to kick you.

When you elbow me in the head in the middle of the night and wake me up, I really want to kick you.

Just rest knowing that I don’t plan to ever follow through on this impulse. It’s just the hormones talking. Thank goodness I’m still in there somewhere … I think. My rational old self is still buried under a layer of mush. My hair is still falling out by the handful. I still seem to cry almost every day. Sometimes I feel like giving you a swift kick would make me feel better. Like it would somehow right the ship and compensate for the fact that you haven’t undergone any physical changes whatsoever. You just have to endure MY changes.

I think it’s sweet that you didn’t judge me for drinking a glass of wine at 5 pm yesterday. You never criticize me, ever. You accept me good and bad, even when I nitpick your every move.

Thank you for trying to be nice to me this morning even after I woke you up by throwing a pair of pants on top of you and yelling, WHEN I ASKED YOU TO CHECK THE WATER FAUCET OUTSIDE I DIDN’T MEAN “TRACK DIRT ALL OVER THE LIVING ROOM.” 

You really are a good man. Today you don’t need to worry about wearing your shin guards.

Love,
Crazy Bitch Your Wife