I love birthdays. My husband does not. Ryan told me after we got married that he hated any holiday that involved gift giving because trying to choose something people like stresses him out too much. Not me. I look forward to finding the perfect anniversary or birthday gift because I love surprises. My friends will laugh at this because they know I hate opening gifts in front of people. But I will gladly make others uncomfortable in the gift giving process. But for today, here is a little birthday open love letter to you Ryan. You may be the only one who understands this blog post, but that’s ok. Because it was written just for you.

Today, you turn 36 (I told everyone you were 35). I met you when you were 22. Met you again when you were 28. Married you when you were 31. We had G when you were 32 and Mack when you were 34. We have celebrated 4 wedding anniversaries and lots of birthdays. But I think today is my favorite. It’s my favorite because I look at the life we have created, the beautiful children we have, and I stand in awe. There are a million things I love about you, but here are just a few…

I love that you can build anything, without directions, and on the spot. It’s really sexy actually. Some girls like designer clothes on their men, but me? I’ll take you working in your fire shirt, oily from the Chevelle, or covered in sawdust from your latest project. I mean I don’t actually want to help you build anything. But you know that. So you set up a chair and get me a Diet Coke so I can talk to you while you work.

I love that you try so very hard to cook and get so very frustrated with the process. You tease me about the base I always start with (garlic, onions, and butter) and each time you cook, I hear, “So I start with peanut butter, celery, and corn flakes right?” Yep. You got it babe. But in all seriousness, you make the best damn biscuits and gravy I’ve ever had.

I love your sense of humor. There are few people on this Earth that truly get it and I am one of them. The zingers you come up with take me a minute to get, but they leave me laughing until I have tears in my eyes. I love that you’re silly with me…that you’ll quote movies, dance in the kitchen, make up accents, and imitate people dancing when we go out.

I love that we talk and don’t scream at each other. That each fight makes me feel stronger about the years to come. And I love that we talk about those years with excitement. We both know if you go first I am screwed. No bill would ever get paid, I’d continue to “maysure” using my hands and arms for reference, the alarm would never get set, we’d never have water, and anytime anything broke…it would probably be haphazardly fixed or left that way. See. I win that bet.     

I love that we tease each other endlessly. You make fun of my lack of “agility” (even though I believe you do not know the definition of that word) and I make fun of your letterman jacket that still hangs in the closet. You roll your eyes at my gangster rap music and I roll mine when Thunderstruck blares through the house for the millionth time. But watching you carry all three kids, pumping your fists in the air, and singing at the top of your lungs absolutely makes my heart melt.   

I love that you retell stories from your childhood over and over again, like it was the first time I’ve ever heard them…then I love the face you make as I start to smile because I know exactly how that one goes. It reminds me that when Grant is older, I’ll need to buy lots of milk and extra loaves of bread because he will consume them all after school just like you, Adam, and Matt used to. I really don’t understand how you don’t remember that you have told me that story a million times. I mean, it’s not like I have ever told you about when Nick and I used to fight over how we made our Mac N Cheese. Two words. Pepper Steak.

I love the way you love our babies. You are the dad I always wished I would have had and I know there will never be a moment when you won’t be a part of their lives. I love that you tickle them, wrestle and chase them, carry them while you mow the entire yard, and snuggle them all night if they can’t sleep. I love that you play them our songs when you rock them. Those kids sure will have incredible taste in music because of us.

I love you because you don’t let me get away with something when I am genuinely in the wrong. I can be combative and moody and while you might be the most patient man I have ever met…if I am being a real jerk, you let me know. And I love you for it. This marriage isn’t built on allowing one another to be doormats. It’s about having a whole lot of grace and forgiveness, but being willing to have honest conversations when one of us royally screws up.

And finally, I love you because you love me. All of me. You love the girl who used to have a killer bikini bod but it has since been replaced with a double c-section scar, stretch marks, and a LOT of love in her handles. You love me in sweats and a baseball hat or in a dress and heels. You love all my ridiculous quirks, and there are a lot. You know that if you’re talking to me and the TV is on, I didn’t hear a word you said. You know I will do anything, at all costs, NOT to pick up the phone and make a phone call. You’re the only person who knows every mistake, every flaw, every secret, and every moment I am not proud of. And you love me despite those things. You took me when I was broken and you made me whole again. You let me be unapologetically me and I will never be able to show you how much that means to me.

Happy birthday to my soulmate. I hope you enjoy your membership to the gun range. Which I haven’t picked up yet because I’m a hot mess and I didn’t think the gun center would appreciate me coming in with no bra and yoga pants. I hope you love it. I sure do love you.

**After writing this blog, posting it, and letting you be the first to read it, I found out you already had a membership to the gun range. It would be so typically flighty of me not to know this. But you just smiled, bear hugged me, and thanked me anyways. I might not always have it together, but admit it…you would be so bored without me. <3