Justin finally got to feel the baby kick last night. So far, every time he lays his hand on my tummy, the baby freezes. Or falls asleep. I’m not sure which. Justin says he feels ok about it – it’s probably a good thing for him to have a calming effect over our kids. But I have felt like I’m experiencing these tiny little miracles every day and with every bump and there is no one in the world I’d rather share it with. I felt supremely grateful last night when baby kicked its daddy good and hard. It’s inside of me, but it is part of Justin. And now he has experienced it too. I loved seeing the smile I've been wearing for weeks finally sweep over his face.
This morning he picked up his guitar for the first time in months. Over the past four years, I have loved listening to him play. His first Christmas gift to me was the lyrics to a song he wrote, pasted inside of a scrapbook intended to hold our future holiday memories. He proposed the next Christmas with a second song. The funny thing is, I have never liked those guys who play music to impress girls. Please don’t serenade me, you cheese ball. But one of the most endearing things about my husband is his humility and sincerity. There is not an ounce of cocky in him. And now this morning, he is quietly practicing next to me on the couch and I can just imagine him leading a sing-a-long with our kids and teaching them how to play.
How did I get so lucky to have this man?
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