J is my husband and Little Button’s father (bet you didn’t see that coming). He’s smart, witty, and totally phobic of fleas.

Of the two of us, he’s the extrovert and manages to keep in contact with people he knew when he was 2 years old. When in a public gathering, I’m actually quite comfortable being in the background as “J’s Wife” and watching him work the room, acquaintances and strangers alike. He’s comfortable in his own skin and it’s totally sexy.

He indulges my obsessive tendencies and multitude of unfinished projects. And for that, I indulge the fact that he is constantly leaving half-empty soda cans in my car.

We met in the Theatre program in college (we were both drama majors) and were married in June of 2001 in the mountains in Leavenworth, Washington. It was a pristine wedding, almost fairy-tale-esque. It was supposed to thunderstorm, but God granted us a special wedding gift of perfect, cloudless skies. A good thing, since it was an outdoor wedding and we didn’t have a “Plan B.”

Truth be told, most of our marriage has been relatively stress-free. We get along fabulously, accept each other’s weirdness and enjoy each other’s company. When he’s being a poo, I just tackle him. And vice versa. Much cheaper than counseling.