I have a son that most nights is a great sleeper now. Some nights though, he will fight me tooth and nail about going to sleep. He will flail. He will cry. He will push and do everything to make it as difficult as possible to get me to contain him to get him into a comfortable position to go to sleep. On this particular night, though, he didn't flail. He didn't cry or push. Instead, he lifted his head, pressed his nose to mine and said, "Boo!" and then quickly buried his head back in my chest and giggled. He repeated this about six times and each time laughed harder. By the third time, I lost it and was giggling with him. After he calmed down, he began "talking" to me. Colin showed no signs of slowing down. I have a son that no matter how tired he is, would rather play with me and talk to me, than sleep. While I've never doubted for a minute that my son loves me, here's physical proof for me to look back on when I need it.
I have a husband that I've been to the end of the earth and back with. There is no one who knows me better, takes better care of me or makes me laugh as hard as he does. On days where I don't feel it, he will remind me that I'm strong. That it's not about getting knocked down 11 times, it's about getting up 12. He reminds me it's also about enjoying the world around me and continuing to do the things I love with the people I love. Whenever I think about the favorite parts of my day/week, it usually isn't some event like going to a family member's house for dinner or something being accomplished at work. It's usually something that happened on the car ride there or sitting on the couch with Dave and Colin playing with us. Things like that stick out to me. Yesterday, we got to go on a dinner date and we were talking about work. He was talking about his company's manufacturing shipping process and there was a split second it clicked for me that it was great that we can really connect about his work now, unlike when I worked in retail (I work for a distribution software company - that's not new, it was just a thought I had in the moment). Later last night, I made iced tea. I do this every night and have been doing it pretty much all 6 years of our marriage with the exception of the 10 months we lived with his parents. When I came down with his glass, he kissed me (for my "payment," another ritual, lol) and say, "I love ya!" There's something about the way this makes me feels, every night, that makes it special. He is my best friend and the love of my life. I don't want to share my journey, my stories or my couch with anyone but him for the rest of my life. I am loved. Here is my proof.
My family is my world. I will be collecting memories for when I need them, but I have begun feeling better already.
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