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Today, on his 37th birthday, I'm grateful for my husband, Chad.

We went on our first date in July of 2001, and I knew from the beginning that something was amazingly different about him. I still remember what he wore on that date, and what Van Halen songs were playing in his Camaro on our way home from dinner.

In November of 2002, I said yes to the question my heart already knew the answer to, while the most breathtaking diamond I'd ever seen was slipped on my finger. And in June of 2003, with butterflies in my stomach and a huge smile on my face, I took his last name in front of our family and friends.

Life has handed us joy, trials, laughter, and heartache. But through it all, we've stayed side by side. There's no other person in this world who knows how to get on my last nerve, and yet knows how to make me smile the very next minute. Sure, there are days when I'm aggravated enough to pinch off his ears and feed them to the squirrels in our backyard. But there is no one else I'd rather spend my days growing old with than him. He's the one who steals my covers, the one who laughs at my jokes, and the one who owns my heart.

Thank you, Chad, for loving me in spite of my faults. Thank you for making me a Mommy, and for selling your beloved Mustang after Macy was born so I didn't have to go back to work. And thank you for not complaining about it. Thank you for going to work every day in the hot summer sun and the cold winter winds to provide for our family... even when you're sick. Thank you for buying organic food at the grocery store without my having to ask, and for picking up a new flavor of coffee creamer because you think I'll like it. Thank you for doing the dishes when you know I'm exhausted, and for eating leftover soup so I don't have to cook every night. Thank you for wheeling the trash can out to the driveway before the sun comes up, and for not making fun of me when scary movies give me nightmares.

Happy Birthday, Chadwick. I love you to the moon and back.