Capital B

the shack, 2002

woolacombe, england 2003

mud bath, rotura, new zealand 2002

nothing says cool, like having your mid-drift showing

bay of islands, new zealand 2002

bay of islands, new zealand 2002

October 26, 2002

b shredding at sand dollar 2002

valnetines day york, england 2003

june 2009

i know i write about my kids. a lot.

after all, they consume about 95% of my thoughts-- leaving a small 5% for things like what i'm gonna cook for dinner, or how i can get a break from my kids...

sometimes the dog will get a shout-out, or my mom, the occasional friend, and once in a great while i'll mention my husband. well today i wanna make up for it. today, my man, brandon trevor rodgers turns 40, 32.

so how can i begin to tell the world- (all 9 of you who read this anyway) how lucky i am-- when i know the only present he wants involves a sentence with the words - install, exercise, pole, and bedroom? since that sounds as likely as it snowing in osos, my words will have to suffice.

having 3 kids in 4.5 years has, at times, left us more as roommates than the sultry lovers we once were... our days are devoted to food, diapers, clothes, trains and babies. the little time we do have for ourselves we spend half dozing on the couch. but then, just when i least expect, i'll catch a glimpse of why it is i fell so hard, so long ago for a tow-headed boy who worked at CCS.

a friend of mine asked me awhile back, 'would you rather have your husband be a good father or a good husband?' ten years ago, it was a no-brainer. good husband. i remember trying to be intentional about showing affection, or wondering what he would like best for dinner, or pining after him when he left for 2 weeks to go surfing in indo. i remember him bringing me flowers for no reason, or writing little cards or notes for me, or planning a romantic night out. i never could've imagined a day where i would rather have him rock the baby to sleep instead of cuddle me on the couch, or bring flowers home for his 4 yr old instead of me. i never thought seeing those gestures would seem more romantic than candles and dinner ever did....

i could go on and on about what an amazing father brandon is... from ALWAYS being the one to wake up with the kids, to never saying 'no' from the smallest will you change the babies diaper? to at the last minute, can i go get a drink with the girls and leave you with all 3 kids (for the record - if b wants a night away, i need like days to prepare, and even then, its likely with a disgruntled heart). its times like those, that i'm reminded that i got more than i deserved when i married brandon.

but even amidst those aspects of his character that i admire and adore, i see glimpses of a good man. from when i see him surfing the cayucos pier while the waves are scraping the bottom, to when he finished his ultra -marathon, to him getting his queer eye on and obsessing over what shade of yellow to paint the kitchen, to asking a stranger to hold their newborn baby. its times like those, i fall in love all over again.

though we've had some good times, we've come along way from smokin bowls in the cab of your white ford ranger or running around naked in big sur when we thought we were alone... i know neither of us can't help but recognize somewhere along the way, we got swooped up by grace... the fathers hand took ours, and took us --and gave us a life we never, ever could've a dreamed of.

i am so thankful i got to marry my very best friend...

so cheers to you b, on your 32nd, may you always know, you look like gold to me...