If anyone was dreading the end of the Thanksgiving break, it had to be House Speaker Mike Johnson (R-La.). The two-year veteran of Congress’s most intense wars is walking back to the Capitol this week with the weight of the world — and all of American health care — on his shoulders. With just a couple of weeks to solve some of the country’s biggest crises, Republican leaders are gearing up for a flurry of activity on everything from government funding to the Affordable Care Act. For the Louisianan, weathering these storms is just part of life now. Asked last week what his favorite D.C. political drama is, Johnson smiled and said, “I don’t really watch them — I have enough of it here.”

The quip was part of a wide-ranging interview with his wife, Kelly Johnson, on the “Katie Miller Podcast” just before Thanksgiving. In it, the dad of four talks about everything from his least favorite holiday side (cranberry sauce) to the funniest member of Congress (“probably Tim Burchett”). But some of the most transparent moments of the 52-minute sit-down were the times when he was vulnerable about the stress of the job and the toll it takes on his family. 

As Johnson has admitted multiple times since his shocking rise to the speakership, this isn’t a job anyone in their right mind would actually want. “Our lives changed overnight,” Kelly acknowledged. “We were not prepared for it,” but more than two years into the job, she says, “We are adjusting. Finally, we are getting used to it.” But frankly, Mike confessed, “I don’t think any of us fully realized how much life was going to change in making the transition from sort of rank-and-file member to speaker. And it’s an all-encompassing, literal 24-hour, seven-days-a-week assignment.” Of his four kids, aged 15-24, he and Kelly made it clear that the whole family had to have “buy in.” “We never [make] a decision to run for office or do anything until we … pray about it together as a family. And so, our kids have been kind of raised with this ethos that we’re in public service, [and] we have a duty, and everybody feels that.”

That doesn’t make it easy, they both stress. Mike talked frankly about the government shutdown when he decided to keep the House out of session. “[Minority Leader] Hakeem Jeffries (D-N.Y.) … was out saying, ‘Speaker Johnson put the House on vacation.’ And I thought it was laughable,” the Louisianan shook his head. “I haven’t had a vacation day in two years. I haven’t been off in two years, literally.” Maybe Christmas Day, Kelly chimed in, “but even then,” Mike explained, “I’m taking calls from members with their drama.” 

But they both understand that these are the trade-offs of the second most powerful job in D.C. “We accept the responsibility. It’s [a] season of life. It’s not forever, but it takes everything out of whomever serves in [the] position and by extension, their families.” It’s a “true honor,” Kelly wanted people to know, “though it is difficult, but it is an honor to serve our country.”

The duo, who’ve been married more than two and a half decades, were candid about the everyday parts of life they can’t really enjoy now. Going out to a restaurant is almost impossible these days, they agreed. Even running errands or grocery shopping is out of the question. “I hate it because I’m just a regular guy, you know? … [But] when you’re a speaker of the House, you’re second in line to the presidency, and you can’t [do normal things]. I mean, I get it, but it’s no fun at all,” Johnson admitted before adding, “We love our detail. The security team [is] amazing. They’re all part of the family. It’s like 30 of them that rotate in and out. But it’s a three-car motorcade right now with a tactical unit and a and a police car in front. [I can’t] go to Home Depot and buy a hammer. … [T]he sad part is you give up a big part of your life.”

One of the constant struggles, they will tell you, is tuning out the press. The Johnsons are no strangers to criticism, despite the uncanny ability Mike has for passing bills with one of the smallest majorities in history. When Katie asked how the critical news stories affect them, the speaker replied, “I have learned over time that it is best to not read it, to not pay attention to it. Because at first, when this first began, it wasn’t easy. It was hard. But now, I just decide I’m not going to look at that anymore and just focus on us and what we’re doing, and that’s how I handle it,” he explained. “And now, it’s just easier. It just rolls off the back easier.” He paused, “There are certain times when I don’t let it roll, and it will bite at me a little more than it should. I understand I have to fight that sometimes as well.”

The important thing, the speaker continued, is “you don’t take it personally. You don’t carry grudges, and you have to be a very forgiving person. I mean, there’s a lot of passages of Scripture that we repeat back and forth to one another all the time to remind ourselves of this.” Frankly, he pointed out, “When you’re in a time, as we are right now, when you have a very small margin, if I carried grudges or if I returned fire to somebody who’s criticizing me, the agenda would grind to a halt, because at the end of the day, I got to get every member to yes, literally every one. We have a one- or two-vote margin on any given day.”

Speaking of that, Katie pressed, who’s the hardest person in Congress to deal with? Mike smiled. “You know I can’t answer that question.” Although he did provide some clues, pointing to the people who “are on social media … expressing their opinions. And you can probably guess who [it’s been] those times.” But, he was careful to underscore, “There’s a big category of people who are just complete team players [and] never want to make trouble or cause a stir. I couldn’t even begin to name them because, really, that’s most of our colleagues.” 

Equating his job to unite a sometimes belligerent caucus with parenting, Johnson said that he tries to “meet people where they’re at.” “We have this joke that I’m not really the speaker of the House, I’m really like a mental health counselor. And so when the pressure gets turned up really high, and the stakes are so high, and the votes are so tight, I just try to sit down and listen to everybody and figure out what their primary need is and how we can meet that.” Sometimes, he smiled, “those are long counseling sessions, but we get that done. But it’s not unlike … the same skills you use as a parent.” 

Congressmen aren’t used to being heard, Johnson insisted. “[That’s] kind of a foreign thing on Capitol Hill … and it was jarring to people in the beginning when I was handed the gavel,” Johnson acknowledged. But it’s become part of what we do now, and people expect that. And your word is your bond here. And if you don’t have that, you don’t have anything.” He added, “And I admit when I’m wrong.” Honestly, the Louisianan continued earnestly, “I want everybody to be at their highest and best and [for] everybody to be successful. And that’s just kind of the way we operate.”

But refereeing competing ideas and disagreements takes time, and it means life is very unpredictable. “We’re kind of in triage every day,” Johnson told Katie about the various Hill emergencies and debates, “and every day is different. There’s no pattern for schedule, so everybody,” he said, referring to his family, “has to be very adaptable.” 

That was a natural bridge to the “most annoying” thing about his speakership, “No downtime,” he supplied immediately. The attorney took a breath, thinking about his long hours. “Even when you think the work of the day is done, and you put the phone down — I mean, this would be 11:30 at night — ring, ring. What? Another crisis? You’re sort of like a firefighter, in a way. You have to put out fires every hour.” 

Maybe that’s why the speaker didn’t answer right away when Katie asked about an unexpected perk that came with the speakership. After a beat, Kelly chimed in. “You know, I would say there’s not a lot of perks,” she replied honestly. “People think that there are.” Then, her husband seemed to remember one great thing about his position: “The speaker’s balcony,” he interjected. “Yeah, we love the speaker’s balcony,” she agreed. And followers of Mike Johnson would know that to be true, since he posted a picture of a beautiful sunset scene from there at the end of the government shutdown last month, insisting that it reminded him that God still has his hand of blessing over America. 

After a rapid-fire Q&A — including the most important person Mike has left to take a call from his wife (the president), which member would he trust to cook him Thanksgiving dinner (Rep. Lisa McClain, R-Mich.), who picked out his signature glasses (his kids), and which pie he’d pick for the holidays (his mom’s key lime or chocolate) — Katie asked something weightier. “What’s a hill you would literally die on that no one else cares about?” Kelly looked over at her husband, answering sincerely, “You die on hills all of the time.” He laughed before agreeing, “There’s a hill every 10 minutes.” 

Then he got serious. “I really am focused on preserving this institution. I’m convinced that we have the greatest experiment in self-governance in world history and the greatest nation in the history of the world. And a lot of it is dependent upon the foundational principles that make all this work. And so, I think those are things that are worth fighting for. And increasingly,” he said sadly, “a lot of people are ready to reject and move on from those things. But it’s something I take very seriously.”

What keeps him up at night? “Not much,” the speaker responded, “which is sort of surprising in this position.” His number one and two concerns are the national debt and the threat of China. A third, he conceded, is “the rise of AI and what that might do to society. But I don’t want to go down a long list. I’m able to compartmentalize.”

To the person who knows him better than anyone, Mike Johnson is a kind, authentic, often underestimated, down-to-earth man. “What is the one thing nobody knows about him?” Kelly was asked — “that if you thought, ‘If only the world knew, they’d love him so much more.’” His wife of 26 years thought for a second before replying, “I will say, what you see is what you get with this guy. This is who he is all the time. He doesn’t change, and he loves people. And he believes the best about everybody. He really does. It’s really, really remarkable.”

The speaker will need every ounce of that patience and goodwill heading into two of the busiest weeks of his career. But despite all of the obstacles ahead, Johnson is undaunted. “The liberating thought for me is what John Quincy Adams said, ‘Duty is ours. Results are God’s.’ It’s a very liberating way to live,” he insisted. “You know, you do your best. You do. You try to be faithful and the best that you can in your flawed way. And then it’s a very comforting thought to know that we are not the sovereign. God’s in control, and ultimately his will is going to be done. So we just want to try to work our way into that as best we can.”