I don’t know about you but I hardly ever eat a hot meal.

Sometimes it may be warm or lukewarm but 99% of the time I eat a cold meal.

And 99% of the time it’s my fault.

Yes, the kids are a BIG part of the 99%, but it really falls on me.

How, do you ask?

Well, because I serve my family before I feed myself.


That word has so many meanings to me, but currently  this is what it looks like for me:

Scene: Dinner

Prepare my husband’s plate and drink and take it to him.  Prepare Reese’s plate and drink/help him go potty before dinner/get him situated.  Prepare Emery’s plate which includes cutting pasta, waffles, etc. into little itty bitty pieces (then hand feeding her so she actually gets some in her mouth).  Finally prepare my own plate and drink and sit down.  When I look at my husband he’s usually half-way done with his food but I’m always so hungry and know my time is limited that I’m usually the first one done.

Do any of your routines look like this?  I know a lot of people who have told me that I should just tell my husband to “go make your own plate”.  Sure, he could do that–he’s a big boy.  But, that’s not what it’s about.

~It’s about love and respect.

~It’s about knowing he left the house to go to work all day to help provide for his family.

~It’s about honoring him as a husband and daddy by showing my children how the marital relationship should look.

~It’s about serving him and my family because I love them and put them before myself.



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