Part of him, part of me

I love it when Guy wakes up before the alarm. Since I never wake up before the alarm (not including the 52 trips to the bathroom each night), that means that he is going to be the one to wake me up.

To be woken up by kisses on the forehead is to have the first thoughts of your day be of how much you are loved. It's a pretty amazing way to wake up.

This morning, I had to be woken up twice. The kisses on the forehead were the first time. Then I dozed off again. I can't help it. There is this spot right below his left shoulder that I just melt into and can't help but relax into slumber.

The second time I woke up, we had turned into spooning, with Guy's hand on my belly. I rolled back over to face him and he says,

"The baby kicked me while you were asleep."

Later, while I was driving to the school for more substitute teaching goodness, I had an emotionally overwhelming thought. It was one of those thoughts that is so incredibly obvious, and when you say it out loud, it sounds almost stupid. An "of course" thought.

When I was young, I used to sit and ponder the fact that I was a unique person. Saying that doesn't find the depth of importance that my mind would explore. The questions that arose from that statement and the way I related and fit into a world of other unique people. It just sounds silly, but it felt like a deep meditation to me.

I had another one of those moments today. I thought about the baby kicking his daddy. It doesn't sound like a deep thought, but it felt like one. The enormity of how lucky I am to have created a life with the man I was created to be with struck me with such force that it took my breath away. That he could feel that life this morning was one of the most amazing things I have experienced.

What has been a really hard week is ending up being pretty wonderful.


A fabulous pair of boots certainly doesn't hurt either. But perhaps that's a bit shallow of me.