Okay, so...

Yeah, the last few weeks have been pretty much nothing but a bitchfest about Tom.

I know.

And...there are still somethings about which I'm frustrated.

But...

Last night when the girls and I rolled into the driveway at 6:30 (we spent some extra time at my mom's. Olivia wanted to stay naked a little longer.) he was there, installing a storm door on the front entrance into the house.

And he'd bought a remote to the garage door opener.

Maybe I'm having a good day but I realized today that he's taking care of in his own way. He's doing what he can to make sure his family is safe and warm and cared for.

Sure, my emotional well-being isn't always priority, but I really think he doesn't even realize that.

A friend asked me recently if I didn't think I deserve better.

Hmmmm...

Do I? Don't we all, to some extent? Heck, Tom probably deserves better than me. At least, to his thinking. He probably deserves a wife who takes better care of herself physically. He probably deserves a wife who is a better housekeeper. He probably deserves a wife who cooks better.

And the girls...they deserve a mother who doesn't yell so often. A father who is around more. A mother who does crafts and cooks and plays Barbies.

But we're in this together, Tom and girls and I. We're a family and to be honest, I like our little family, even if I would like it very much if Tom's presence in the house weren't so much of an event that it turns the girls into maniacs who can't be calmed for hours.

We'll keep muddling through, making the best of each other and this life we're living. In the end, we're pretty darned lucky to have each other. I have to believe that.