Sometimes it hits me all at once, the gratitude. I was just standing in the kitchen making my 409th cup of coffee (with raw heavy cream, holy..wow yeah it's good..) and I peeked in to see Paige and Wyatt at work using sheets, pillows and their imaginations to make a "movie fort" to snuggle in while I let them have some cartoons on a Sunday morning (those lucky buggers..) and it's just like holy shit I LOVE YOU GUYS.
They are my reason for being this person I strive to be. This decent person who can give back to mother nature, who can love my own family (mom, dad, brother) deeply until our times are up here, this wife who can make this marriage built on respect and love (and rage?) because that's what I want them to be. Good people, who love and sometimes fuck up but enjoy life. Who get PUMPED for life because it's a short pretty awsome journey we are on.
I am so grateful for so many things;
For Paige's super long eyelashes and the sprinkle of freckles across her nose and rosey cheeks. For her imagination which takes her on journeys across the prarie, through the fairy filled woods and often *always?* ending at a stable with kind sweet ponies.
For Wyatt's impish grins that spring up right before he's going to do something evil. For the way we sleep at night; his legs curled into my belly and his face an inch from mine breathing his milky breath onto me as he drifts away (and before he does, he always says I love you too momma, even if I didn't say it outloud yet..)
For Phil who just knows me. Inside and out, good and bad he is my soulmate if such a thing existing. And we drive each other crazy, and we fight and screetch and I throw fake punches at him (that I wish were the real thing..) but we also love. We let the kids see us fight, make up, snuggle on the couch and kiss in the kitchen. They see a relationship built on years and years of driving each other crazy, and for that I'm grateful.
And as I write this, Wyatt went on the POTTY -- so this is a to be continued after I give him 408 kisses