Rus Wednesday

Rus loading up Bekah's bike for a ride on her fourth birthday...

I think I married the wrong guy.
I know this because I like him too much. He helps out too much. And when he's gone too much I go crazy.
Last night Rus came home and asked how I was doing...to which I replied, "I'm depressed. I've been trying to figure out a way to tell you that without throwing a massive fit, so there you go. Rus, I'm depressed."
I guess I should preface this by saying that the last week and a half has been really busy for Rus at work, and while he rarely has late nights, last week was filled with them. And then this past weekend he and his dad went on a road trip up to Colorado for some fun off road motorcycle action - which I completely supported, and the weekend went fine, and the kids were really well behaved...
But then Sunday night the thought of the week ahead of me was completely depressing. I hadn't had a weekend reprieve with someone else to yell the words, "Beau! Stop hitting your brother/sister!" or someone else to clean up the milk that spilled three times in one morning, or someone else to take Beau out of sacrament meeting because he kept climbing up the pew and slapping the guy in front of me...
Then Rus's van got in on the action and decided to steal Rus's attention Monday night (me and the ManVan are so not tight anymore), and then Tuesday morning Rus let me know he had a meeting that night at church...
And I bawled. The rest of the day. And while my kids pounded on the bathroom door because someone chose that time to inexplicably torture someone else, I just wanted to curl up on the floor and disappear.
Ever have those days?
Ug.
So that's why I was crying when Rus asked me how I was doing and when Jacob refused to eat the dinner he specifically asked for and...Then Rus did some amazing things for his crazy wife.
He got the kids all ready for bed. Jammies, story, scriptures...everything but teeth and prayers. At six o'clock. Long before bedtime.
He headed off to his meeting...but returned ten minutes later smiling and removing his tie and sat on the driveway with me in his Sunday clothes while the kids rode their bikes and scooters and the sun changed the clouds to bright orange and yellow and pink.
He rode Bekah's pink scooter up the street, slippery Sunday shoes accomplishing nothing on the asphalt, looking ridiculous and happy.
He showed Jacob how to pop a wheelie on his bike, something Jacob will definitely get the hang of...sometime.
He herded the kids inside and upstairs and into their beds.
He indulged me in another fit and helped me clean downstairs till it smelled like my swiffer mop thing that does a crappy job. (But smells nice.)
He told me he still loved me.

And today was not depressing at all.