There is an unsung hero behind StyleLikeU and that is my husband, Tim. He is the quiet backbone behind all of my full-blown mania (and I have been nothing short of manic since launching SLU). Recently, there was a night where Tim was literally bringing in spoonfuls of fresh crab meat (my favorite) and putting it in my mouth as I frantically packed for a trip (due to my obsession with StyleLikeU, I have little time for anything else, eating included).

I do not mean to paint the perfect picture of Tim. It is a daily struggle to deal with his "male" reticence towards change, evolution, and emotional growth, especially when I am a bastion of unfiltered mega feelings. I find Tim frequently detached and it drives me nuts that he is always watching sports. However, almost every part of our lives has been put on the back burner due to StyleLikeU, and he has barely uttered a complaint. Trips to the movies, vacations, taking long walks together in the country are some of the "normal" activities that remain a distant memory. A couple of summers ago, on a visit to a cabin in Maine, Tim went with our dogs and not with me. As my son, Louis, put it, "Dad is taking our family vacation for us."

In fact, a subtle and slow total role-reversal has occurred over the past four years, with Tim taking on many of the tasks that were once my own. He shops for all of the food, priding himself on his choice of vegetable from the Farmers Market. Cooking every night has become a ritual that Tim covets (though he himself has a very busy career as a music lawyer), and, as I write this, I hear him chopping the vegetables. Two days ago, Tim started telling me about the chicken he bought for tonight and how good it's going to be. And I am noticing an increase in creative touches that often make Tim's dinners a work of healthy art. If I go near the kitchen to try to lend a hand or add a word of advice (it needs more garlic or keep it in the oven longer), I hear Tim's body language loud and clear: "This is my domain now."

The guy who didn't know the difference between a frozen carrot and one with green leaves has become a passionate gourmet (and I can barely buy an apple). So, even though Tim isn't a crier (we are working on that), his newfound role continues to bloom: Mr. Mom to me.

Photos of Tim's food by Elisa