Camera Guy is always whining to me that I don’t brag about him enough here. Well, the reason isn’t because I don’t want to it’s because I’m terrified (and adamantly against) turning into one of those gosh darn super annoying bloggers that is always going on and on about “their man”. I’ve read those blogs before and I know you have too. I totally judge those women, and I know you do too! So yes, I’ve tried very, very, hard to resist the temptation of gushing and mushing about my hubs. And trust me it has been tough because I affirm him a lot around here and he really is the man of my dreams, but every now and then I’ll get the pouty lipped
“Well, if that’s really how you feel why don’t you write it on your blog?”
That’s my super humble husband for you. Who loves public displays of affection. Ahem.
So, I got to thinking that Father’s Day is coming up. And those of you who know anything about me, know that I am an enormously huge fan of Dr. Gary Chapman’s The Five Love Languages. I think that it is a fitting gift to give my Camera Guy, the ever humble Mr. Tom Thimons, some much overdue words of affirmation…publicly here on my blog. I know some of you out there are going to roll your eyes and want me to keep it to myself. But cut me a little slack, ok? I keep it normal and un-sappy most of the time. If it’s really that big of deal, you are in control of your own browser—I aint keeping ya here!
Ok! Tom! Get a load of this, this is me, standing on my mountaintop telling the world what a lucky girl I am:
This guy that I married…… once ran all over our college campus leaving me love notes written in chalk on the pavement EVERYWHERE that I walked on a typical Tuesday.
This guy… CHASED MY CAR about a half mile down the road waving a sign that said “I Love You!”
He drove to New York from Pittsburgh in the middle of the night, just to see me for a few hours because he missed me. My sisters were squealing and jumping at their windows that Sunday morning around 7am “It’s TOMMMMM!!!!! Tom’s HERE!!!” . They woke up the whole house, and all of us, pajamas and all busted open our front door half in shock, and laughter at the sight of him. Then he drove home! And he left me this note under my pillow that day, that I still have on my refrigerator
He built me this beautiful memory box to hold all the notes and letters he would leave stuffed in my purses, coats, under my pillows, in my mailbox…there are so many I need him to build me a second box
My favorite memory is in the beginning of our relationship. I forgot to bring a VHS to our media class for a film project we were doing. Tom, unbeknownst to me or the rest of the class, snuck out of class and ran to the campus bookstore (in the pouring rain), purchased the tape and came dashing into the room just as I was my turn to film. I was explaining to our Professor why I couldn’t complete the project when lo and behold, he handed me a blank VHS tape….quite literally saving the day.
He makes pancakes and waffles every, single, morning. Because the kids demand it.
I went out for Mom’s Night and I came home to a closet re-organized by color..on his own initiative
He’s hooked on Downton Abbey. He’s obsessed with Carson, the Butler. At first I thought this was a phase, his introduction of “Downton Saturday”….but it’s getting worse each week. Last week he actually dressed up, too. That’s right, Tom noted that all the married women in Downton Abbey get breakfast in bed, because in high society it was looked down upon to come to the breakfast table…as a married woman. So yes, (I SWEAR ON MY LIFE I DID NOT ASK FOR THIS) he insists on this spiel every Saturday. He should watch out though, because I’m reallllyyyy starting to get used to this.
He agreed to take dance lessons with me. Here we are on our first day:
He gets up with me in the middle of the night to hold the flashlight so I can give this dude medicine for his molars:
For Mother’s Day, he baked boxes of his homemade scones, muffins, cookies & brownies to send out to some of our relatives. He lovingly calls his baking gifts “Daddy’s Diner Delivery”
This is the type of artwork he makes me, when he does painting with the kids.
For Mother’s Day, he got me a beautiful Italian musicbox that plays “Somewhere Beyond the Sea” a nod to when our relationship began…while he was in Austria and I was across the sea in Ohio.
He’s not perfect, ladies. He can’t put his clothes in the hamper, or wipe out the sink when he shaves. He frequently leaves the seat down and snores. He sings the Les Miserables soundtrack ( and millions of versions of it) consistently in most mornings at a horrifically loud volume. And I can always count on him to quote Aladdin every time I ask “So, how did it go?”.But he is a very thoughtful, sentimental man and I’m a hopeless romantic so I feel so incredibly blessed to be his wife. He is the man of my dreams, the man my parents always told me I was worthy of, and an incredible father. I hope in a tiny way, this shows him how grateful and honored I am to have him in my life!