30 MINUS 1 DAY!

Holy frick!  Do you know what tomorrow is???  It's my 30th birthday.  The 30th birthday isn't just any old birthday, it's THE birthday.  It means I'm an adult now. Or at least I'll try to tell myself that.  It means I'm past my crazy 20's and the disasters of the teens is all but forgotten (almost... *wicked grin*).  

But, as you've all been on my countdown with me (at least I hope I haven't gone this alone... you've been there, right?) I'll bet you're anxious to find out the #1 reason I think I'm made in the shade on my 30th birthday! Hmmm... let's see... what shall that reason be? Hmmm... right, like I have to guess.  Without further ado... 

Reason #1

HUBBAND!

Duh, right?  Gosh, I don't even know where to start without tearing up.  Long story short, we were made for each other.  We met in high school and while it maybe wasn't love at first sight (he was shorter than me... c'mon, give a girl a break) it was meant to be.  We just... fit.  

I know he reads this blog (he spends his life with me but he still reads my silly rants anyway) so he's going to get an eye-full of what he means to me - and now you all do too.  Well, both of you who read this, anyway.  

To me, his is perfect.  He's the yin to my yang.  He's calm when I'm a hot mess; he's smart when I'm, for lack of a better expression "too pretty to know". He's kind when I want to be mean, he's supportive when I think it's time to give up. He's been there through hell and back (both caused by me, and by things we couldn't control) and through it all he managed to love me. I may not look like Nicole Kidman (his other dream girl - can you blame him?) but he chose me. Short, plump, goofy, crazy me. He does seem to think I'm funny, and he laughs when I cry at Biggest Loser. He thinks I'm cute in pigtails and he laughs so hard his nose crunches up when I eat something that I don't like (usually because he makes me try it). He loves to surprise me with gifts or parties which suits me just fine because I do love a good surprise. He cooks for me since I gave up trying to be a good cook years ago, and he takes care of me, all without holding it over my head.  

Oh lawd... here we go... the waterworks are starting... *sniff*

He smells better than any man I've ever met and I love going to bed next to him and waking up beside him the next day.  He's always warm and while he sometimes screws up his face when I put a cold hand on his warm back, he never makes me take my hand away.  He'll get me that box of cookies at 9:30 at night (from the grocery store) without telling me I shouldn't eat them 'cuz I'll gain weight.  And then he takes the box to work the next day so I won't eat any more of them because he knows I'll hate myself if I do.  

He let's my crack on his terrible taste in music (ick... country) and let's me think that I'm the better driver.  He bought me a house with a pink front door because I fell in love with it and he lets me decorate the house however I want, even if that means he's not allowed to hang his speakers from the ceiling.  That's not a joke - he would, in the office, if I'd let him.  He's taking me to Scotland for our belated honeymoon because it's where I want to go.  It's not his first choice but he's excited because I'm excited.  

But for you men out there reading this - don't read this wrong.  He's not "whipped" or "trained".  He's just who he is.  He's the man of the house.  He takes care of me, he provides for me, and he does it all without me feeling pathetic.  He supports me in starting a business that's not making any money yet, but doesn't make me feel bad for wanting a fabulous new purse, or a to-die-for pair of shoes.  

He is, without a doubt, my best friend. He is my reason to celebrate and the reason my life is as amazing as it is as I reach this milestone. Thank you, my dear Hubband. I love you today, tomorrow, and forever.  So much.

And P.S.  Happy 56th birthday to my Daddy-o today.  I love you, Dad.

*Photo courtesy of Resolusean Photography