PB&J

Yes, the kids and I had peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch today (just peanut butter for our son). But this post isn't about our lunch.

This post is an early birthday post dedicated to the person lovingly, playfully and all too honestly listed as "PB&J" on my contacts list. The guy I'll be celebrating seven (7!) years of marriage with in just a few short weeks.

I kid you not, he's awesome! Not perfect, uh huh. But I can't imagine anyone else I'd rather be sharing this adventure with. He shakes his head slowly and grimaces at all my crazy ideas but then he supports me through them all.

Go to NYC with three kids under 5 and no extra set of hands? oooo...kay. Move to a camper? oooo...kay. Homeschool? oooo...kay.

Yeah, I complain now and then: he's often in la la land. He sometimes misses what I see as obvious. But he's also my resident artist, lover and friend. Oh! And an increasingly skilled amateur handyman. Simply put: I could not do it without him.

Just today:

We woke up to 32 degrees and a frozen hose preventing water from reaching the camper so he insulated some pipes (and did some related miscellaneous tasks).

He revealed the work he'd taken on in our future home's pantry! He was inspired by Honeycomb Valspar paint he saw at our Lowes one day.

Oh yeah and he did some normal stuff, like go to work and bathe a couple of kids.

So I say, if you happen to have a glass of something (anything really) nearby, join me in saying:

Happy 32nd, Nicky! You're aging well.