My husband had a birthday.
And I didn't blog about it on the very day on purpose, because he doesn't like this gushy stuff a whole bunch.
But now it's December so I can say how much I love him and get all cheesy because it's ok if he gets mad about it after his birthday. Plus I'm burying this behind another post so maybe it's not so blatantly gushy-ish.
I just want to record what I love most about him right at this moment in time not because the things I love change...more like they get added upon and shift around in their vibrancy each year.
I love how he helps me raise our children. I love that he sees things in them that I miss. I love how passionately protective he is for them. Not the type of protective to keep them from things, but to make sure they are exposed to things. Because in the end, he knows that the more they are exposed to and learn from the more protected they are in the long run.
I love that he never gives an empty compliment. If he says something he means it.
I love that he is smart. He seems to know something about everything. And his sponge of knowledge has helped him live out the dreams he had when he was a little boy: to be an entrepreneur. I'm so proud of he and his brother and brother-in-law who have worked so hard for their company and made it into something so viable. They are smart. And they are kind and good. That's a good combination.
I love that he "gets" me and that he puts up with me begging every single night to move to China or some other foreign land at least for a little while. And that he actually tries to make that happen (and did for one summer long ago).
I love his heart. I love that he cares so much about how others feel. He is always aware of the person who may feel left out or who may need a little extra love.
I love that he's determined. Like, really determined. When he sets his mind to something there's no going back.
I love that he is organized and takes good care of things.
I love that he calls me "Shas."
I love that when we get mad at each other all kinds of things spill out and we get into this groove of figuring each other out deeper and more-meaningfully. I love how honest he is with his feelings and how seriously he takes mine. And I love that we love each other even more after we get a little mad and get things out.
I love those moments where I'm still and I'm watching him read with Lucy or helping someone with their homework or talking with a complete stranger and my heart fills with gratitude that I get to call him "mine."
Happy Birthday to my very best friend in the world. Love you babe.