I tried hard to find a picture for this post...

but nothing I've taken seemed adequate enough. 

I'm heading to another one-on-one signing class this afternoon.  I love these one-on-one sessions.  I get to know the parents so much better, get to customize my lesson to fit their unique situation or needs.  Oh, I'm not a perfect teacher by far, I still have much to learn.  But... I love meeting these people from different walks of life - the parents of an adopted child, the same sex couple, the mixed cultures - all of them with this common thread, this desire to raise and teach their children in the best way they know how.  For one hour of the week, I am fascinated by people and their relationships.  

Then I come home to my rambunctious, noisy, demanding little family.  

It feels good to be needed.  To know that I am Mom, and that I am irreplaceable.

I meet my husband's eye over the heads of two fighting toddlers with a hopeless expression.  We smile at our son's progress and distracted air while reading aloud.  I sigh in my mind at the end of the dinner hour, and my husband silently heads to the sink and cleans up the mess.  His hand finds my lower back or shoulder and offers a supportive squeeze amidst the hustle and bustle of everyday family life.

This man who means so much to me - he is the one I invariably think of after thinking of all the different people I get to meet in my classes and wondering at their relationships, their lifestyles. After whirling thoughts that I cannot put into order, I think of my husband and the steady source of comfort and support that he is.  I cannot even explain our relationship very well.  I only know that he is there. I would be groundless without him.

I think of how monotonous life can become, how ordinary our everyday interactions.  

How many days have I let go by without touching those I love?  How many hours without stopping to hug a child, to tell them "I love you?"  How many weeks and months without carving out time to spend with just my spouse?  How long since I've cooked his favorite meal or baked his favorite dessert?

I came across a short, but beautifully written piece this morning, called The Bravest & Most Beautiful Affair by Ann Voskamp. I have never read this blog before, and do not know if it something I will go back to read again, but the post touched me.  I read it over three times.  So true - some of her words on the relationship and commitment between spouses; of the love.

"the bravest love is wildly faithful and it falls hard again every morning. How it puts the toilet seat down and the cap on the toothpaste and winks for those already-won eyes. It knows what we seek may be found in what we already have."

What I already have. I have so much.  There is so much beauty in my life.  I just have to open my eyes and appreciate it and them.

And these are the end of my overly hormonal and emotional thoughts this morning.  I will forget that I have hesitantly shared and I will carry on with my daily routine; and I will hopefully squeeze in a few meaningful shared moments with those I love.