I'm experiencing a little nostalgia this evening as I flip through our archives of family pictures, one folder after another, one year after the next, seeing us, and our life and our love and what its progression looks like in photo form. Everett sat on my lap tonight and for the first time, we went through his birth pictures together. He asked me a number of questions, wondering why I had been crying, and why I was in the bathtub, and why his "bili cord" was so colorful, and why he came out looking so "juicy" (haha!). As we came across a picture of the three of us together right after he was born, Everett said, "Daddy loves you mama, and baby Everett!" It was soul-crushingly sweet and rewarding x 1000, watching him be able to observe on our faces just exactly what it meant to welcome him into our lives that day.
This he knows! His Dad loves his mom, and his dad loves him. And this, being the roundabout way of telling you and thanking you for how good you are at loving us. I could not have hoped for a better partner in this life, and on this, your thirtieth year, I am so glad you're mine. I mean, I liked you in your twenties and all, but the thirties are just so much sexier.
Happy Birthday you.