Birthday Boy

Well, this is several days later than I planned. For Rob's birthday, we got to celebrate by taking Lawyer/Social Advocate Boy to the hopsital for a tonsillectimy/adnoidectomy. What a way to celebrate! Now, he's back at the ER with him because Lawyer/Social Advocate Boy has not been drinking water like he told us -- he didn't lie, he just took micro-sips of water so over the course of yesterday only drank about 2 ounces when we thought he drank several cups -- and woke up bleeding from his mouth. Ugh.

Anyway, my wonderful husband turned 39 on Friday. My mom turned 75 on that day too. But she's away touring the Middle East right now, so she doesn't get a birthday blog entry. People who get to tour the Middle East don't get featured on my blog for their birthdays, because they get the special treat of going to the Middle East. Although how much of a treat that is might be debatable in some circles. I, personally, would rather go to the Middle East than be on my blog.

So, for Rob's birthday we had our traditional birthday apple pie, which totally derailed Nappy because you're supposed to have birthday cake, not pie, and she doesn't like apple pie. This is an issue for her, because really, from her perspective, all birthdays are celebrated in her honor. Now, in his honor, I will tell you a bit about my wonderful husband, Rob.

When I met Rob he was in his 20s and I was still a teenager. Scandalous! Okay, I was just shy of turning 20 and he was 23. But still. Well, this might have been scandalous, but he was so shy that I hadn't even realized that I had met him. I told him, later, it was because of the beard, the flannel shirt, and the jean jacket he always wore. Being the kind of college student that was studying classical piano, I hadn't really pondered young men who dressed like they listened to heavy metal. I kind of had my head in the clouds, or more, precisely, in a practice room at CCM, and he just kept coming around.

"Oh well," I thought, "what harm... it's not like I'm going to marry him."

Fast forward three years later, and we were married. He might have been shy, but he was persistent.

So, Rob is a very quiet, persistent guy who has a history of listening to heavy metal. He's also very intelligent. Sometimes this is good -- like it made it possible for him to finish graduate school and get a job, and, even after nearly 13 years of marriage, I still enjoy having conversations with him. Sometimes this is bad -- like when we're arguing about something. I would find that much easier if he just weren't very smart. He also likes to read philosophy, history, fantasy and the occasional geeky sci-fi or action book. Because he likes to read history he's got me hooked on historical fiction, some history non-fiction reading. I even actually read an occasional Star Trek novel.

But, no matter how persuasive he can be, he will never get me to like "Dr. Who". Some things don't even deserve to be an acquired taste.

He does still like some heavy metal, and I do have to say that he has corrupted Lawyer/Social Advocate Boy, who used to be my prized piano student but is now spending his time (while avoiding drinking water) studying electric guitar. However, he also has acquired a taste for both classical and jazz, and most recently, this interesting kind of avant guard folk music that he brought home from the library.


I realized what a gem he was when we were dating and it was winter. He lived in a house full of guys. The guys were nice, the house wasn't. It was a real slum and his room was freezing cold. There was actually no heat in the room. I lived in a pretty nice house with my roommates, and had an attic bedroom. It did get chilly, but I was whiny and complained about how cold I was. I came home from class and found his space heater plugged in and heating my room. He's been consistently that thoughtful for our entire marriage.

He also really loves Jesus. He's been willing to follow God to orphanages in Ukraine and Kazakstan and didn't run out of the room screaming when we realized we'd be working with the secret police on our last adoption. In fact, all we could both do was sit there and laugh. The first time he flew, let alone ever left the country was when we traveled to Ukraine for our first adoption. You would just have to say, too, that he's very brave.

He's also quite good looking.

In addition to all that, he has a great sense of humor. Here you can see his annual beard removal tradition:

First the "Amish Beard." He actually tried to kiss me with his beard like this! It was like being pursued by Abraham Lincoln or Dwight Shrute's brother, Mose. Freaky. We contemplated video taping him running around the yard like Mose, but thought the neighbors already find us unusual enough.






Next came the goatee.













I challenged him to keep it like this for several days, but he didn't. Next year the progression will go: full beard, full goatee, handlebar moustache.





In the course of our marriage he's completed college, graduate school, worked as a librarian, traveled, adopted children, been with me while I birthed children (didn't even get woozy!) been a great dad, helped me with advocating adoption, researched things for our family, being a computer techie kind of guy, read volumes of books to our children and has always been my best friend.

And, he does the laundry.

Not bad for a guy who once told me his motto is, "Never be in a hurry unless you're on your way to relax."


So, Happy Birthday Honey!