Happy Mother's Day: This Is My Wife

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Yes, today is Mother's Day and I'm going to use it not to tell you another one of my self-aggrandizing fatherhood stories about how darling my daughter is, but instead tell you about this lady. She's my wife, Brooke. We have one daughter, and another baby in the oven and we don't yet know if that one will be a boy or a girl. Later this week, we'll be married for a full 9 years.

They say that a picture is worth a thousand words, but this one is not worth the same thousand I'm thinking of.

When you get married — and I know this is so stinking cliché — you just don't know what you're getting into. It's largely about fluffy love and feelings, which is such a funny thing looking back on it because we see how little we understood back then. We didn't know anything about how raising children puts a strain on marriage and career and friendships and personal goals and all of that jazz until we became parents. Still, we trusted and started the journey.

I'm glad we did. Brooke is like any other mother, I'm sure, keenly aware of her own shortcomings and self doubts. But from where I sit, I wouldn't dare trade her in for anyone else to help raise our children. She's fun, loves to take silly outdoor adventures with me, enjoys running and swimming and skiing and getting together with friends at a campfire. She's working hard in her world as a music educator, and still manages to cook us meals except when it's my turn to make pancakes for breakfast or work up grilled salmon.

We've been trapped in lousy weather while backpacking, broken down on a backroad that took us 2 days to hike for help, shared a bathroom in Peru when we were both hit with a nasty stomach bug. Maybe there's a few more dismal misadventures, too. Still, she's always ready for another good trip, good hike, good adventure. And I get to raise kids with her, and I get to have a marriage with her.

So today's the day to honor mothers. I put a card on the kitchen counter. Doubt that's enough.


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