We like to party all the time

We're hosting a birthday party on Saturday. And it's not just any birthday party, it happens to be Brodie's FIRST birthday party. Can you believe that? Brodie is going to be one next week. (And that makes me officially old, because I can now quantify my child's age in years as opposed to days, weeks or months.) One! Where has the last year gone? He seems so advanced, he's done everything so early I feel like he's literally running out of the baby stage and turning 12 years old. I tried to tell him that he's not allowed to have any more birthdays but just like when I tell him not to unfold all the dish towels it's in one ear and out the other.

But the planning of his party has been enjoyable, at least for me. I'm pretty sure that everyone around me is sick and freaking tired of discussing the pros and cons of homemade red velvet cupcakes and butter cream icing vs. a boxed cake mix but I've had a good time making and sampling cupcakes. (Come on - who doesn't love a cupcake?! Oh, really? Well, I'll eat yours.) And I know for a fact that if I bring up party decorations to the Bee again he's going to strangle me with streamers and stick candles in all my orifices. (And not in a fun way, either.) I guess we have strikingly different ideas of how to celebrate a one-year-old's birthday party.

For example...

• Superjanel: "I think we should get a banner for Brodie's party, you know, one that says, 'Happy Birthday, Brodie' on it." Bee: "If they're at his party, they're gonna know his freaking name."
• Bee: "Do you think a keg would be out of line?" Superjanel: "Can you get kegs filled with apple juice? He's turning one; ask again in twenty years."
• Superjanel: "Do you realize we're sending out forty invitations to our son's birthday party?" (Imagine look of shock and awe; for the most part I can't think of 40 people I want to spend 10 minutes with let alone an entire afternoon.) Bee: "That's all? Who did we forget? Let me see that list..."

Fun, fun, fun.

Oh, here's some news for you. The Bee and I have come to another stage in our relationship: we're getting married June 11. Now there's a shocker, huh? We've been the ultimate transitional couple - together but not together, living together, not living together, totally not together, together but don't tell anyone, together, not together, together, in jail, in limbo, together - for the last three years and now we're getting married. I'm not offended by the look on your face; up until we applied for the marriage license a couple weeks ago I'll admit that I was one of our biggest doubters. And not because I doubt the Bee, his feelings for me or his commitment to Brodie or myself - I was in complete denial that marriage is where we were headed.

Let's face it, I'm not exactly batting a thousand in the marriage department. And I've been the relationship asshole for the better part of the last year. (You know every relationship has at least one "relationship asshole" - the person that's snarky for the sake of snark, mean for no reason, unhappy with everything, and the first to pack their bags - or pack the other person's bags - when things get hard.) I'll own that title and I can't even give you a good reason for it other than fear. But it's time to grow up. We're living the life - kids and house and bills - we're forever intertwined. And for all the time we complain about it (and who doesn't complain about it at one point or another?), we're actually pretty happy. And since that's the case, let's make it official. I love the Bee. I love that we've created the most amazing person and we have another one on the way. And I'm genuinely happy to be getting married.

The wedding is not a big deal. I don't mean that we're not taking it seriously, I mean it in the sense that we're taking the easy way out and getting married in front of a judge. It's in a courtroom. No kidding. Bring on the jokes about marriage and the proverbial "death sentence" - it makes me giggle that we're being "sentenced" to a lifetime together. Jokes aside, we'll be having a party in the fall to celebrate and have all our friends and family together. At this party, we might even have a banner, a keg and more than 40 people, no arguments from me.

Closing the door and throwing away the key

The last couple weeks have been challenging for me. Don't get me wrong - life at the moment is good: Brodie is amazing and the Bee is happily back to work. I lead a chamed life - I get to stay home and raise my baby and prepare for my next child to be born - lots of people would love to be in my situation and I'm honestly very grateful for what I have.

All that said, I came across some news that shocked and saddened me. I can't decide if it's wise to share it here, the conflict I'm feeling leads me to believe that I should keep it to myself so I think that's the best route. However, I can say that it left me feeling more than a little hurt and wondering why I wasn't good enough to be put in that position, to be offered those chances, to be that person. I know that everything happens for a reason, that God sees more than I'll ever know and in the big picture (to which I'll never be completely privy) it will all make sense. But I was more than a little stunned. I suppose it's part of the process of healing and moving on; I think the psychological term is "closure." And now I guess I've acheived closure... or it's been achieved for me.

I'm okay with that. I've (obviously) moved on  my life is good. I'm not the only one that deserves to be happy.

And in the very remote chance that you ever see this, congratulations. I think you'll find this opens your heart more than you ever imagined - I'm truly happy for you. You deserve it.