I don’t talk about my husband a lot on my blog. When I started writing about my life and being a parent, I left him out of the mix. He 100% supports me and my blog, but he didn’t sign up to have his life broadcast to thousands of people a week.
But today, I do want to write about him. I promise I won’t throw you under the bus, Logan. 😉
Disclaimer: He has no clue I’m writing this so he will read it the same time you do.
My husband puts up with me. I can be very high strung. I worry about everything. I know I shouldn’t, but I do.
He works full time as a Special Education Teacher at Owensboro High School. He is also the head baseball coach there.
His days are long. Lately, he has been waking up with me at 4:30 am to workout and get the kids ready for the day. Then he teaches all day. Then he goes to baseball practice. Then he comes home to me, an absolutely insane/adorable three-year-old and Baby Simon, the most laid back baby in the world.
Did I mention that he does all the cooking?
I was going to use some sports metaphor here about out-kicking something but I’m not good at sports, so I’m just going to say I am a very lucky lady.
I met Logan about six years ago. We grew up in the same town. We both graduated high school in 2003. He went to Owensboro and I went to Catholic. One of his good friends lived across the street from me in high school, but somehow we never crossed paths.
I went on to college at Western Kentucky University, graduated and lived in Nashville for about four years. He went to the University of Louisville, graduated and went on to play pro baseball for about four years.
Oddly enough, we both moved back to Owensboro around the same time.
We met for the first time at a fundraiser for his mom’s non-profit, the Owensboro Dance Theatre. I was dressed as a Spice Girl. Long story.
It took a few months, but we connected again via social media and he asked me out. We went on our first date and saw each other almost every day after that. We have been together ever since.
People always say that there is a moment they knew someone was “the one.” I don’t think I’ve ever told Logan this, but I remember the exact moment I knew he was the one.
We had been together for a few months. We were at his parents house and they were asking him to move some of his old trophies and other nonsense out of his room so they could put their house on the market.
We were upstairs in his closet going through some stuff and I came across a note. It was from the principal of his high school. I don’t remember the specifics, but it was thanking him for sitting with some other high schoolers with special needs at a sports event. People that might not have had a lot of friends.
It brought tears to my eyes. I knew Logan was a great person but that is just the sign of someone really special. Someone that really cares for others.
Six years, two kids, a dog, two houses, multiple jobs and four cars later, he is still the one for me.
Yes, we argue. Yes, we get mad at each other over stupid things. Yes, we can get on other’s nerves.
But I will always love him.
So thank you for putting up with me.
Thank you for being the best Dada to our kids.
Thank you for making me the best birthday dinner ever.
Thank you for understanding my love for napping.
Thank you for keeping me fed.
Thank you for calming me down when I’m all worked up over something ridiculous.
Thank you for reminding me to keep my PMA when I’m having a bad day.
And thank you for picking me. You are the best.
Until Next Time,