And happy one month, Little Man!

But today is really about my husand. (Disclaimer: what follows is a very sappy post dedicated to my husband!)

I met my husband in 7th grade. Yup…middle school. I warned my middle school kiddos to be careful who they “liked” because you never know…

Keith was good friend with a guy who lived down the street from me, and we would walk to & from school together. We had history class together. Keith would steal my purse…he would flip my bra strap. He would talk to me and I would get kicked out of class.

Keith had long hair (a mullet, actually…hey, it was the late 80s!). He wore black a lot. He smoked. He cursed (you should see my freshman year yearbook signature from him…WOW did he curse). He was a classic bad boy.

But I only wanted to be friends. He had an older brother that all the girls in our group thought was hot – and he WAS the bad boy.

Turns out Keith has two older brothers…I only knew about the hot one when we started dating (who, BTW, is married to a wonderful woman who could kick my a&* and they have a wonderful daughter). Who to this day I still tease Keith about “your hot brother.”

Keith was the first boy to ever kiss me. We’d been at a party at abovementioned mutual friend’s house. My mom pulled into the driveway. Keith offered to walk me downstairs to get my coat. He handed me my coat and laid one on me.

I remember thinking it was wet.

I never wanted to “go with” Keith. I viewed him more as a friend…a brother.

He hated that. But he maintained our friendship.

We lost touch shortly after I started college.

Fast forward to 2002. I come home for a job interview and abovementioned mutual friend and I had reconnected on the internet. He and his wife were and his parents (LOVE them) were going to dinner and a baseball game…they had an extra ticket…did I want to go.

I tackled Keith in the parking lot of the restaurant. He came strolling up (looking very grown up and quite attractive, I might say) and I literally threw myself into his arms. And although he stumbled, he didn’t fall.

Keith never falls. Ever.

By the end of the game (where we ignored the rest of the world to focus on each other) we were each trying to drum up the courage to ask each other out. That night, I knew in my heart I would marry him.

I emailed him.

He asked me out.

We got married a year later. It was like time hadn’t passed. We had lost touch for a few years, yes, but we only had those few years of life to exchange with each other.

My husband is the most amazing man on planet earth. He is kind. He is generous. He tips waitresses well (trust me…this is important!). He makes me laugh. Every. Single. Day. Infertility strengthened our relationship, it didn’t diminish it, and I’ll give him all the credit for that. He holds me when I cry. He holds me when I puke. He loves Jesus more than he loves me. He loves our son. He works SO hard so I can stay at home with our son. He loves me. I respect him more than any other man on earth.

So happy birthday, Keith. Who knew in 7th grade I’d met the man of my dreams?

I love you, Keith. You are the most amazing husband and I am so blessed to be witnessing your transition into the most amazing father.

Little Man and I are blessed that you were born today, thirty-some years ago.

I love you.

Forever.