He's 31

Today is a special day in the Wheeler house--it is the 31st anniversary of the birth of our patriarch, also known as my amazing husband Jason. Today he turns another year older, and so marks the beginning of the (roughly) 6 months of every year when I am a "year" younger than him (lame inside joke).

Jason. My considerate, uber-patient, witty, introverted, shrewd, athletically-gifted husband. Before he was my significant other, he was my sarcastic, occasionally hot-tempered-but-good-natured best friend with whom I loved to laugh and always seemed to be on "the same page." ("Get off my page", he would say. Another obvious inside joke.) Even though we grew up on the same mountain about a mile from each other (as the crow flies, if said crow flew over a mountain with a county line running across the top of it), we went to different schools and lived in different towns. We had one major thing in common though, one thing without which I would not be telling this story--the sport of swimming. I loved swimming at my grandma's pool in the summer, and so I begged my mom to sign me up for a swim team when I was a child. As fate would have it, the very same was true for Jason. So, sign us up our mothers did. We met on the swim team at age 8, and the rest is history.

Actually, the rest is a little more complicated than that. While I had a crush on Jason from the moment I first saw him (just like every other pre-pubescent girl on our team, I totally married the team stud *high-fives 13 year-old self*), he never noticed me until I was 16 (funny how that happens with teenage boys). Unfortunately, at that point I was already dating a complete jerk somebody else. My sweet Jason waited five whole years for that horrendous mistake relationship to play itself out (I wasn't kidding when I said he was patient) before he got the chance to date me. But he attempted many times to steal me away from my ex waited, and I can't believe how lucky I am that some girl didn't steal him from me snatch him up in the meantime!

Anyway, in honor of my husband, my best friend, the father of my perfect children, I am going to show some pictures of the Jason that few people get the chance to see...

Yes they are blurry. They were taken "in the moment" when the only camera around was my crapberry Blackberry. You can direct your complaints to the RIM corporation, who feels that this lousy camera is an asset with which to sell cellular phones in the current market. Please CC me on your complaint letter.



Work Jason.
Also known as Random Hot Guy On the Side Of  the Road By an Intersection With A Clipboard.

Nighttime Jason.
He loves it when people get in his face. He especially prefers someone to be in his face when he's on the couch watching tv.
He feels that this prevents him from becoming too relaxed, which he totally hates.

Daddy Jason.
Teaching his son how to rough-house is a priority.
Brady is a very quick and receptive learner in this arena.

Rough-housing lessons are not limited to sons. Daughters can also participate.
And participate, she does!

Teaching his daughter how to give kisses is also on the priority list.
The only rule here--she must never kiss any boy except Daddy.

She's OK with that stipulation.
For now.
Which is good because she gives open-mouth kisses.
Dun dun dun...

As is tickling.
Daisy's first photobomb. Not sure how she hasn't scored one until now, as she is ALWAYS in the way around.

Cuddling comes in third on Daddy Jason's list.
Ready? 1, 2, 3, All together now...
Awwwww!

Sometimes Daddy Jason isn't the teacher, he's the student.
In this case, he's learning how to rough-house with two maniacs high-energy toddlers at one time.
This is a routine evening parenting lesson in our house.
The reason we have such difficulty getting the Tods to sleep at night is becoming clearer to me.

So that's Jason. My Jason. My favorite person on this earth.

That our souls have known each other longer than 31 years is pretty much a fact.

Happy Birthday, poo!