A very special birthday

Yesterday was my husband's birthday. I wanted to make it special, but...

We'd had family in town over the weekend, and getting ready for the "Christmas" celebration took up a lot of my mental energy (which isn't in overstock right now, anyway).

Mal was sick.

We're gearing up for Christmas, the real one.

But mostly, Mal was sick.

We did manage to bring home food from Taquiera Chapala, because my man loves Mexican food.

Mal isn't sure he likes Tex-Mex. He looks to Daphne for his cues.

I'd told him I'd make him shepherd's pie, too, but after I'd spent three hours holding a restlessly-sleeping Mal, I wasn't sure I'd be able to do it. He was fine with a rain check.

We did get to watch two full episodes of "Agents of SHIELD," which is awesome and rare. James asked me why I was crying at the end of the second episode, which just proves that he still doesn't know much about women.

I did get to make the pie, with Mal's help, actually. It turned out great. And we had wee little cakes for James.

Anyway, I tried to make his birthday special, despite being fairly depleted of resources. He's not one to make or to want a big fuss, but I'm sure schlepping to Wal-Mart to get replacement batteries for our thermometer wasn't on his birthday wish list.

Still, I wanted his day to be special because I always want him to know how special he is, and how much I love him.

I like to tease James, to anyone who'll listen, about how I wanted to get together with him in high school. And I did. But it's so, so good that we didn't date then. We weren't ready for each other. We weren't right for each other. It took years of growth and hurt and roller coaster living to prepare us.

James and I are very, very different. We came at our relationship, as adults, from very different places. In fact, there were several times that we considered ending it. I remember once saying, "If that's the deal, let's just break up now because I can't." And another time, James recalls driving to work wondering, "Do I really want to be in a relationship with someone who's this high maintenance?" Obviously, he decided that he did. He also decided that "the deal" wasn't too important and kicked it by the wayside, because he wanted to try to make this work.

We are very, very different. But it didn't take too long before those differences, instead of being something shocking and even maybe hurtful, became this wonderful dance of filling in where the other is weaker, or of opportunities to practice selflessness and grace.

James is not like anyone else I ever dated, especially not seriously. He has a mind that is amazing and, honestly, a bit scary. Even knowing him as well as I do (he says he has no more secrets from me), I still sense that I have barely scratched the surface of who he is. He has outlooks and ideas that I might not agree with, but those have become wonderfully enriching and have helped a lot with parenting my teenager.

James is brilliant, but he doesn't make me feel stupid. He knows how to get his point across, even when I'm wrong, without gloating or even sounding like he might be correcting me. He makes me believe, even on my hormone-iest, most exhausting days, that I am beautiful, and I think that I am beautiful because he thinks so. If I weren't older and wiser, it would be tempting to take his love for granted... because I can. That's a first. I can seriously not worry about losing his affection. But this doesn't make me want to slack off; it makes me more grateful and more in love than ever.

I adore this man more than words can say, and I can't pretend to rue the years we didn't have together, because I really don't. I'm so glad I wasn't his "starter wife," or that we didn't date and blow up and ruin the possibility of a future together. I look forward to every bit of time we have for the rest of our lives, and only wish I had more than tiny cakes and a shepherds pie to show for how much I care.

There's always next year. And the next. And I'm ridiculously happy about that.