May I take a moment to describe my ideal man? Slightly taller than me, a smile that reaches his eyes, sense of humour so dry it's like the Sahara. Completely obsessed with road bikes and cycling, to the point where the annual Tour de France constitutes a festival (namely, the "Festival of Christian"). Has scars on his knees from surgery (which is cool, because "chicks dig scars", apparently) and a tiny little patch of titanium inside his beautiful, kind, generous, thoughtful heart. Possesses infinite patience, knows how to make a killer cappuccino, and contains more information about cars inside his brain than any normal person should.
My gorgeous hubby turned 36 today. And I am so very, very grateful that he had this birthday.
Last year, when Christian had 35 candles on his cake, I arranged a surprise lunch for him and about 35 friends and family. Given that he had endured heart surgery only one month prior to this, and that we had a five week old baby, and I was only beginning to recover from septacaemia, the party was pretty low-key. At the time, I thought we were on the up and up. At the time, we thought the exhaustion was temporary. At the time, I thought it was a good way to celebrate Christian's return to health.
We could never have known that only one week later, we would experience a violent home invasion that would change our lives. We could also never have known the year that was before us, nor the health problems that would plague Christian until he was nearly felled by them.
So today, I am celebrating my husband. I even bought a special table cloth (plastic, of course!) for his birthday dinner tonight, to show him how much I love him. It's covered with dinosaurs and amazing facts about them. He thought I was having a dig at his age (which I was), but still, he's my dinosaur. I'm grateful that he has the opportunity to keep getting older.
I'm grateful for the fact that he spent a great deal of time today helping me prepare the house and food for our birthday dinner tonight.
I'm grateful that we went out for lunch as a family, and enjoyed a lovely quiet meal sitting outside a cafe. (Our kids were grateful for the special lunch, too, of that I am certain!)
I'm grateful that my husband is taking his health seriously, and is beginning to take care of himself. I would prefer it if he lived to be a cranky old man with really high trousers and bad hearing. Seriously. Then I could be a cranky old lady with pink hair, lots of cats and even worse hearing. And we could shout at each other about something terrible we saw on the news. And still hold hands when we're eighty.
I'm grateful that Christian's new job allows him to see the kids in the morning, and be home in time for an early dinner. I'm grateful to the point of weepy that the kids no longer have to make themselves stay awake at night to have time with Daddy. Our little family spends so much more time together now, it's unbelievable.
I'm grateful that we had a birthday dinner tonight with Christian's family and some of our lovely friends, whose children ran riot with ours and had a high old time. This birthday today was a blessing, because over the last 12 months there were several times when I thought that there would be no more birthdays to share.
So I am grateful for my birthday boy, including his gammy knee, his increasingly-salt-and-pepper hair, and his appalling taste in SBS movies. Happy birthday, babe. Love you to the moon and back again.
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