I recently read a blog entry posted by someone who refers to her husband as Poor Kyle. This cracked me up, mostly because I refer to Matt in my head as My Poor Husband most of the time. My Poor Husband who waits patiently at the door for me while I rush around; grabbing last minute things on my way out the door, partially brushing my teeth, partially putting on my jacket. My Poor Husband who is often at the mercy of my navigation skills when we are finding some place that "I just saw and know exactly where it is". My Poor Husband who, as you can read here, probably won't experience a relaxing flight anytime soon. My Poor Husband who is subjected to constant dance parties in our kitchen. (No apologizes on that last one. My dance moves are sweet.)
And My Poor Husband, who is being buried alive by unfinished craft projects and supplies. Downsizing to a smaller home without a craft room or desk left little place for storage. So right now there are misplaced glue sticks, crochet hooks, yarn, fabric and unreasonable amounts of paper stuffed, scattered and stacked all over our house. I don't exactly qualify as an "artist" who can live in chaos and disorganization all in the name of creation and art. I'm just messy. I love to create. I love to make cards. I love handcrafting gifts for friends. I love redecorating our home. I love using Etsy as a way to support my hobby.
Matt has learned to understand this. He has learned that I need a craft budget. He patiently steps over half-finished projects scattered all over our living room. He doesn't complain if we stop by the craft store to use an expiring coupon. He gives me the most hilarious look when I come home with some piece of junk I insist I "have an idea for".
"Husbands, live with your wives in a considerate way." 1 Peter 3:7
He is immensely considerate of my creativity and interests and allows our home to be a venue for them. I realize that my blog is slowly evolving into a list of reasons I love Matt, but we're newly weds. I can't help it. The more I live alongside him, the more I realize what an understanding and patient roommate I have. It helps me stop and take the time to learn how I can be considerate of him.
