Chris Turns Thirty-Three and a Third

Chris was born on December 27, and his birthday rituals have been immutable for the last twenty-five years. Every year he's in Salt Lake with his family, they ski all day, then there is chocolate cake. I'm a sucker for long-standing traditions, so I love this about him, but it means I've never thrown a birthday party for my darling husband. This April, however, Chris turned thirty-three and a third. Obviously I had to plan something. 

Invitations: I wanted to use this picture of Chris on his first birthday, and there was a separate page with the party details (and limerick!). The backs of each piece had blue and white stripes to match the candle on his first birthday cake. I put everything together in a sleeve with the exact dimensions of a polaroid. Our guest list was basically "Chris' Previous Roommates" so I only made a few, and cutting out those little squares with a box cutter wasn't too bad.

Food: Originally, I wanted to have a narrow, six-foot long chocolate cake, but I would have ended up eating leftover cake every single meal for the rest of my life. That can't happen unless I'm on reality TV. Instead we baked all of Chris' favorite desserts: chocolate cake, brownie bites, blonde brownies, scotcheroos, oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, and very fudgey brownies. The empty plate you see there was for the cookies, which Chris' (truly wonderful) mother baked during the party because a) it made our house smell like grandmotherly love and b) fresh cookies are better than not fresh cookies. 

Chris and I both have a wee bit of social anxiety, so I never think of us as party people, but we actually love doing it. Chris has the best party ideas, and I love making invitations and obsessively planning. Sure, we might be unbearably awkward at the party, but we have a great time in all the preparations.  

b perry

Jack's Birth Announcement

An iPhone picture of the birth announcements we sent out last year. 

My dad took this picture of Jack on the day he was born, and I think we can all agree that he is the most beautiful newborn that has ever existed. I love that picture. I love the perfectly square Johnny Cash stamp on the envelope. I love his little footprint (and in case you can’t read it the words say, “Born August 29, 8 pounds 2 ounces & 21 inches of pure genius”).

I figured it was time to post a picture of the announcement since Jack turns six months old this week. I’d like to spare you most of the clichés (and profanities), but every single thing I want to say is cliché (and profane). They grow up too fast. I love him so much. How is he so cute? He used to be so small. Look at his cubby legs. His giggles are the most beautiful sounds on earth.

These things were thought a hundred billion babies before mine was ever born, but every day when I see his blue eyes shining in the morning light those thoughts feel fresh and intensely personal. To me. But I get it, it’s nothing new, so I’ll stop crytyping into my computer. If you’ll excuse me I’ll be waiting by the door for my baby to wake up from his nap.

britt