This weekend my man turned 30.
We celebrated big!
This was a party that has been in the works since May. 4 friends from out of state, a brother and sister in law, 5 days, one house in Brooklyn, a lot of undercover text messages, and a very surprised husband.
Twas glorious in every way. (Including 6 adults sleeping in our very small apartment for a night. Walking a hundred miles. A pregnant lady who had to stop for the bathroom 5 times on the trip home.)
The weekend went a little something like the Brooklyn Flea Market and very long bubble baths. The best pulled pork sandwich of my life and best friends bringing me bed-rest cupcakes. A happy Adam at the MoMA and a few nights of wine (not me, of course) and games. Those deliciously luxurious heated floors after the Brooklyn Bridge at sunset.
I missed too much of the weekend taking care of little B. But I didn’t miss anything that mattered. These friends that surprised my husband for his birthday are the best couple friends we’ve ever had. Laying in bed with my Adam after a long day, hearing those sweet words of a thankful and full heart, the new friendships and good talks, the endless laughs. That was the balm we needed this winter birthday.
Adam, happy birthday my man! I can’t wait to celebrate another 30 years of your life, and then another 30 after that! You are the best leader, the most devotedly talented guitar player, the funniest Munchkin lover, the hottest mustache wearer, the most faithful Bible reader, and already the best daddy. Let’s go back to Bell End next year and bring our friends again, ok?
Thank you Scott and Carrie, Andrew and Megan, Bucky and Kayla for coming from so far. We love you.
And some baby love.
I love you, my little family.