Thirty.

Geoff said that he wanted the day of his thirtieth birthday to include elements that mirror his life. He worshipped, he served us, he went for a solitary hike, he drew, he wrote, he connected with his closest buds. And just like his every day life, he had to unselfishly make a sacrifice for us. My sis and I had been planning since early November that she and JP would sleep over and keep my kids overnight. (I know, amazing, ne plus ultra, Sanchez'!) So, I packed us an overnight bag, a poshy little picnic with wine and Top of the Hill chicken salad. We dashed into the wintry evening to catch the R8 downtown. We laughed like kids getting away with mischief. He thought we were going to the symphony. I told the boys we were going to a meeting run by Santa's elves, where parents had to clarify the kids' letters to Santa. (I can come up with some pretty surreal stories when it comes to my kids. Just ask them about the "pig's blood.")

Anyway, we found ourselves on the 23rd floor of the Doubletree. We got room service. I continued to train him in the Legaspi ways of exploring all hotel amenities for full satisfaction (These include: unpacking even if you're only staying 1 night, jumping on the beds, reading the complimentary magazines and also reading the manual.) It was wonderful. Then we headed to the pool, where we swam and played for 2 hours. I had forgotten some of the pleasures of swimming. Fear of your children drowning brings a gravity and suspicion to every beach or pool trip. We floated, we raced, we talked. The whole evening was dream-like and amazing. It seemed like we had the whole hotel to ourselves. So when we got a call from my sis at 11 saying that our little girl was refusing sleep, we gave a midnight deadline. An hour later we were packing our bag and heading up the Schuykill back home. Just before we left our room, I wanted to spiral into a state of dread thinking about my unweaned toddler and my holiday chaos back home. But Geoff wanted us to pray. He wanted to give thanks for his thirty amazing years, he wanted to lift up our marriage, he wanted to cry out in prayer for both our wacky families of origin, and he wanted to meditate on the beauty of our little life that we have managed to build together over the past 11 years.

We sometimes joke about my wanting to sleep with an older professor. But he never stops opening my sometimes stony heart, never stops opening the aperture of my narrow thinking. What a teacher he is to me. But what I want to say, Geoff, is that I am seeing after all these years with you is that God is making you into something really strong and real, someone we couldn't have imagined, even together. Happy thirty, my man.