Matt has seen me at my not-best for while now. Pregnancy wasn't easy. I didn't glow. I bloated, and swelled. Then after pregnancy there were hormones. Breastfeeding. Sleep deprivation where I roamed the house like some sort of puffy faced banshee crying, "My body is actually leaking..." (*see breastfeeding). Then I got sick with this thing, this thing that is taking over our lives. He saw me lay on the floor of an emergency room in my own vomit and tried his best to pull up the backside of my pajama pants so no one would see my butt crack.
Like I said, he's seen me at my not-best for a long time.
But he loves me. He loves our girl. He still looks at me like I'm the skinny, perky, energetic 19 year old he fell in love with. I think God blessed him with rose-colored-Liz-goggles, because I'm so not that girl right now.
I think back to one of our first dates, when it was all beginning, the date he freaked out and accidentally threw a spider on me (that particular story will be in the book,). It makes me laugh every single time. Come to think of it, I've seen him at his not-best too. But that's ok. That's marriage. We should have put that in our vows:
"In sickness and in health. Come hell, highwater, butts hanging out of pants in ER's and spider throwing."
To say that I'm thankful would be the understatement of the century.