Hooray for Todd!

When I was going on about Ray Allen the other day, I mentioned how highly I think of hard work. And so, let me give a shout-out to my husband Todd, who is also a hard worker, albeit not in the NBA.

Todd is thorough and thoughtful in his job as a curriculum coordinator in our town, and then at home he's a handy guy who can build things from scratch, like entertainment centers or, by request, a table for Marley's dollhouse. This table took a few weekends, provoked minimal cursing, and was designed to accommodate a dollhouse on top and two pinky-dinky storage ottomans below. If you look closely at the dollhouse, you'll see that I set up the Daddy to push the Baby in a stroller while the Little Boy watches some trippy "Yo Gabba Gabba" on the couch, the Little Girl chills in the sandbox, and the Mommy sleeps peacefully in the bedroom on the top floor. Whenever I arrange the family in Marley's dollhouse, I tuck the Mommy in all tenderly and then set the Daddy up in the kitchen or by the ironing board.

Todd is a great dad to Bean and Toot, and he treated me right on Mother's Day, except for the forty minutes when he snuck back to bed and left me with a screaming Rudy. He let me sleep so late, like until 8:30, and then he made me blueberry pancakes, which I enjoyed with Marley and Rudy while I started the Globe's Sunday crossword. For Mother's Day, he treated me to salted chocolate, a rechargeable book light (Finally! Someone is a genius! This could be the booklight I've always dreamed of!), a dress (I once told him he could get me just about anything from Athleta.), and most importantly, a professional house cleaning.

When Marley was about seven months old, and we lived in our smaller house, being married was hard work. I was a mess for a few months, for a combination of reasons, including, in frequently shifting amounts, having a baby, adjusting to my new identity as a stay-at-home-mom, turning thirty, and living in a 600-square-foot home for about five years, by that time, with two other people and not nearly enough doors. That house was a big part of it. But we worked through it, and hoo-boy am I glad. I'm not saying it's always perfect these days, but more square feet help, and we're pretty great together. For example, Todd just gets that I need the pinky-dinky ottomans to fit under the table so that Marley (and later Rudy) can pull them out to reach the second and third floors of the dollhouse. And then he makes it for me. Thanks, Todd.