Okay, before you get all “YES! A post about sex!” may I remind you that both my mother-in-law (hi, Chris) and MY GRANDMOTHER read this and you will not be getting any inside info about my sex life. So, go ahead and crack open the latest Penthouse forum and pretend you read it here. Wait. Don’t do that either. That’s gross.

This week has been less than awesome and I’m pretty sure when midnight on Saturday rolls around I’m going to offer this week a big middle finger and then run less than gracefully into the arms of next week.

However, it made me recognize how important my family and friends are, most importantly the hubs. The days this week have been rough, to say the least, but nights with him made me smile. We’d climb into our bed, turn the Twins game on the TV, laugh and make jokes. I’d stick my cold feet on his legs. We’d laugh about some stuff until I nearly had tears in my eyes. It reminded me of sleepovers when I was younger.

I realized some nights can feel like a sleepover when you’re married. Even more so when you have kids, because you have to shush each other occasionally, like when you were worried your parents would wake up and tell you to SHUT UP IT’S TWO IN THE MORNING.

However, some nights are not like sleepovers, like when your husband goes to a concert, and although you’re able to sleep through the door being unlocked and alarm being disarmed/rearmed, the husband getting ready for bed and then drunkenly climbing in…he decides to wake you up to let you know that he plans on buying tickets for another concert in June and did you know Julian Casablancas was rightthere at the club standing next to him and blah blah blah. And then I’m all SHUT UP IT’S TWO IN THE MORNING.

(you know I love you, Mr. Hubs. even when you’re extra talky at 2am.)