For my babe on his birthday

 Babies.

Five years ago.

Twice a year I feel like I really really gush about Greg on this blog without excuses and without apologies.  Those times are our anniversary and today, his birthday.  NO APOLOGIES, BLOG.  I AM GOING TO GUSH.

When I met Greg he was freshly 22.  A baby.  Today he turns 27 and just like I do with June, I can't help but mourn a little as I watch Greg and I grow up.  I mean, we were 22 once.  And now we're not.  When we met we were all the things you should be to make such an audacious choice as marriage- we were young and naive and totally stupid.  But we were also hopeful and faithful and immeasurably excited.

Greg has taught me a lot of lessons in the years that we've been together, but I think the most important is how to be kind.  Not just kind on the outside, which is easy to do, but kind on the inside too.  I was complaining a couple of months ago about some students that make me want to light the school on the fire and never return.  "I mean, I don't know how you can put up with them?!" I whined to him.  "Oh, Bon Bon.  They're just kids.  They're only annoying like that because they're confused and scared and trying so hard to make sure no one knows.  We just gotta be nice to them."

I'll never forget how sweet Greg was to me when I was pregnant,especially during that first trimester when the nausea was never more than an arm's length away.  He would make me dinner and clean the house and get out of bed to get me water and crackers and prenatal vitamins.  And then, as my belly started to grow, Greg would push and feel and sing and listen and do everything he could to get that little baby inside my tummy to respond to him.  He was so attentive and so sweet and I thought, "Sheesh, we're spoiled girls."

No one has ever looked at Greg and I and said, "Ah, you're just two peas in a pod!"  We are polar opposites on so many things, but I look at him and I'm so grateful for those differences.  For the way it evens out our marriage and our parenting.  I'm grateful that he is impatient to make decisions- it hurries up my slow mind.  I'm grateful that he likes quiet time- without it I'd never learn to love the silence.  I'm grateful for the eight year old boy that is trapped inside of him-  that he likes superhero movies and always wants to buy popcorn at the movies and that he stays up until 3 am trying to beat video games with his brother on holidays.  I'm grateful when he drags his introvert self out of the house to go to a party with me, and I'm also grateful when instead we snuggle on the couch and watch movies all night.  I'm grateful that he does crazy Irish accents and grateful that he does upside down dances with June and most of all, I'm grateful that he chose me to be his partner through it all.

Happy Birthday Bubsy.