Good thing I didn't make cake. All those candles would've made a bonfire.

Today is a special day.

On this day in 1981, my husband was born. At first glance, you're probably thinking, "Damn, Heidi Renée, how did you reel in such a gorgeous man?"

The answer, of course, is that I have no freaking idea, because he is the kind of nice guy-regulation hottie combo who would have ignored the hell out of me in high school and college. I can't tell you what I did to fix the asshole magnet in me--if I knew, I'd be telling all the ladies I know. Trust.

Jason is much more than a guy who's easy on the eyes and rocks a nice suit and tie. He has overcome so much in his life--much more than I've ever had to face. The cards he was dealt by the universe came from a deck devoid of aces. But he took that crappy hand and shuffled it into one hell of a full house (I'm the queen, obviously... are there jokers in a full house? Because we have three furry ones.). He has accomplished so much in 27 years, and I am so proud and in awe of his drive to achieve and improve. He inspires me to aim higher and work harder. He is a true self-made man, and one hell of a great husband.

Case in point: Rather than sleeping in this morning on a rare day off, he got out of bed to help me take Jasper and Lola to the vet--never a good time. Even on his special day, he's thinking about anyone but himself.

He's out right now spending the rest of his day off driving his dad around in the Corvette (complete with fancy wetsuit material seat covers--my little offering in honor of him being so full of win and awesome). Last night at the stroke of midnight I presented him with a celebratory homemade giant chocolate chip birthday cookie. Tonight we're going out to dinner with his whole family.

Happy birthday, baby. I hope your dreams come true this year. Mine come true every day I get to spend with you.