I can't help it...

Last night, as I was putting Brigid to sleep, we went through our general bedtime book routine, and when I'd finished the fourth or fifth book of the evening, I turned off the lamp, as I normally do, and asked her if she was ready for bed. Usually, this question is met with giggling and a frantic push off of my chest as B tries to launch herself into the crib (my kid? she loves her bed. it's awesome.). Last night?

She wasn't ready.

So, we just sat together in the dark, in the glider, her with her head on my shoulder, me singing any and every song I know the words to...the ND Fight Song, the Alma Mater, Elvis, miscellaneous lullabies...we covered all bases. Every time I'd stop singing? She'd perk up, put her hand on my cheek, hum a few notes, and settle back into my shoulder when I'd start singing again.

I'm pretty sure I've never really been as happy as I was in that little moment.

When Steve and I were first married, I wasn't entirely sure I wanted kids. Kids were work. They interrupted all of the fun things in life. You couldn't take them to bars. You couldn't sleep in on the weekends. You couldn't spend all day Sunday on the couch just because.

Who wanted to live life like that?

Let's just say I'm really, really glad I changed my mind.


Completely unrelated, and yet, worth mentioning nonetheless...I posted over at Style Lush yesterday with a wedding attire question, and if you want to weigh-in on the madness, I'm taking any and all opinions this week!