After more than a decade in love, my husband is still my favorite person. Ever. I have never met anyone that I like as much as I like him.
When he comes home from work, I still smile at the sound of his truck coming down the drive. When we get ready to go out, I can’t wait for him to see me all dressed up. I know when he tells me I look beautiful he really means it. Once in a while, when he kisses me, I feel the same butterflies in my stomach that I felt the very first time our lips met.
There is nobody else that makes me feel like he does. He is, without a doubt, my favorite.
I have two kids, and I adore them. I really do.
But my husband is my numero uno, now and forever.
It makes no sense to me that moms are even supposed to pretend that hanging out with our kids is our very favorite activity. Nobody would expect me to be BFFs with any other small child in existence. Adults and children have precious little in common when it comes to how we relax, unwind, and find joy.
Why should I pretend to prefer the company of kids over my husband just because we made them?
Obviously, when I call my husband my favorite, it isn’t about love. If we were talking about love, my husband and children are all tied for first. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for my babies, and one of the reasons I love my husband so much is that I know he would go to the ends of the earth for them, too.
I love my kids in a way I never imagined before I met them.
But I also love when they’re safely tucked in bed or in the care of a trusted sitter, and I get to be alone with the person I chose to spend my life with.
When I say my husband is my favorite, I just mean that I like him so much. There is nobody else I’d rather spend time with. I like being around my kids — but I like it even more when my husband is around. I like doing everything more when my husband is around.
If my life is an ice cream sundae, my husband is the hot fudge. The rest of it is already pretty great, but he really kicks it up a notch.
My husband is my best friend. He makes me laugh so hard. He gives me affection, attention, and love just because he wants to. My man chose me, and knows everything about me. He’s seen every one of my flaws. He thinks it’s all worth loving. We are partners in every sense of the word.
We have successfully conquered every problem we have faced together since we said, “I do.” Life has thrown us a million chances to give up, but we have never even considered it. I find so much comfort and security in the knowledge that he and I could each survive on our own, but we choose to do this life together because we really, truly like each other. It’s important to me to remind my husband that he’s the love that I chose, and I would choose him again and again.
I tell him he’s my favorite all the time. My kids hear me. I am pretty sure they aren’t offended. I even asked my oldest to be sure. He confirmed he’s good with it.
My husband works outside the house, so he gets time away from our kids almost every day. I work from home, and the kids are with me 24/7. My husband is my favorite because he recognizes how hard it can be to care for other people all day every day. He makes sure that I am not exhausted, drained, and pouring from an empty cup. He loves me on purpose. I appreciate him so much. His support allows me to be the mom I want to be.
His love is a giving love, and it makes me want to be around him more than anyone else.
I know my kids love me with their whole hearts, too, but children are takers. It’s not a character flaw; it’s a part of their design. They are born needing someone to provide every one of their basic needs, and it takes many years for them to grow into anything resembling independent beings. My kids need a lot of help from me every single day to do almost everything they do. They give me all they can, and I soak it all in. They amaze me. But they have a lot of needs, and I supply them all. I’m happy to do it, but even happy work can be exhausting.
My husband never exhausts me. He’s actually useful. I mean, I love my kids, but they don’t know how to do anything yet. It’s hard not to feel a little extra fondness for the guy outside mowing the lawn over the kid asking me for the 17th snack of the day.
He can do everything for himself. Is it really hard to understand why the guy who wipes his own butt is my favorite? I’m not ashamed to admit that I prefer to hang out with him over the two kids who need me to apply cream to their hiney cracks on the reg.
Look. By design, a mother’s relationship with her children teaches them how to need her less and less. We are supposed to show them how to do things for themselves until they are ready to be on their own. My children came into the world as dependent on me as they will ever be, and it is my job to let the line out, slowly but surely.
I utterly adore my children. But my dreams for my kids involve them eventually leaving my home, having careers and families of their own choosing, and supporting themselves. I hope that they’ll always call me for advice and love and friendship, but my relationship with them is meant to grow more and more independent.
That’s how it works.
If our boys are lucky, they will find their own favorite people someday, and they’ll understand exactly how I feel about my husband.
My husband was my favorite person before the kids existed. He will still be here with me when they grow up and start their own lives. Our marriage is the exact opposite of parenthood. We are meant to grow closer as the years go on, learning to need one another more with each passing day, and spending our future as one. That’s what we plan to do.
He’s my favorite.
Isn’t it lucky that I’m his favorite, too?