Today, we celebrate the birth of my main man.
My knight in shining kilt. (Bet you never thought I'd bring back this picture, did ya?)
My husband, my baby daddy, my love.
Stuart turns the big 2-5 today and he's mourning now being a quarter of a century. I kindly remind him that I have been a quarter of a century for almost a year now and I assure him, it's not so bad. I'm quite fond of it, actually.
Isn't that beard wonderful? I love him with a beard. I also love him without a beard. I love Stuart every way.
I love that he appreciates good food and good scotch. I love that he sings to me while he plays the guitar. I love that he fills our house with knowledge, leadership, and happiness. I love getting to see him melt when Georgia leans in for a hug. I love getting to crawl in bed with him at night. I love that he lets me wear his shirts as pajamas. I love that we are the same size, so I don't have to adjust the position of the seat when I climb in the car. I love that he prays with me, and for me, every morning.
Alas, I must give a big *shout out* to Gary and Deborah for breeding such a wonderful son. A son who is a warrior for Christ and lives his life to glorify the Lord.
A son who makes me coffee every single morning.
A son who teaches me. And sharpens me. And shapes me.
Truly, a work of art, this one. One I am grateful to call my partner and my friend. One I am anxious to make more of these with:
What? I can't help it! He breeds beautiful children! Good genes, I tell ya.
Words surely can't do justice to the depth of love I have for my husband.
Happy Birthday honey! I love you to the moon and back.