A guy cooking lasagna. And washing the dishes. And taking out the trash.
I kind of won the husband lottery. But the poor thing, keeps falling to the end of the line these days. Just because he can feed and bathe himself. He can put himself to bed. He can even dress himself without screaming, "My do it myself!" and then putting two legs through one hole and dissolving into one-legged toddler tears.
It is incredibly hard to balance the role of mom with just about anything. Especially, with the role of wife. But I promise to work on it.