Happy birthday to my sweet husband. You have the kindest heart, and the most generous spirit. I’m sure I would be the worry wart most of the time if it weren’t for you. I love you more, and more.
The day started out gloomy. Rain was in the forecast, but my spirits were high, and held on to hope that this garden party would be a great kick off to the summer festivities. Between decorating a cake at 9am, sending out mass text messages that the party was still on despite the weather, and going to the city to pick up a tent, I was stressed. I’m not one to handle stress well. Usually it ends up with yours truly having tears well up in her eyes, then a mini breakdown regarding something 100% unrelated (which I did with my best friend over the phone, on our way to the party), or being short with my very patient husband. I am so thankful that most of my family and friends knows me well enough, to know that I really mean no harm, I just can’t handle the heat sometimes. Otherwise, I’m a sweet person. Well… as they tell me.
The party went on; and it was a blast!
We had lots of fun, in particularly watching three grown men, and a very smart little woman try to set up a tent, that sure did look like it would land us on the 10pm news, if a kid went under it. It was fine (thanks Valerie, for you knowledge)! We danced to oldies, laughed, and stared at a deflated pool until the kids all but insisted that we blew it up. Yeah, us adults had totally given up on it. Eventually it went up with the help of two kids, a cousin, and a new friend, who I’m sure broke a good sweat.
It was worth it! They were so happy, and River, well, River didn’t want the garden/pool party to end.