We were sitting on the couch, half asleep, watching some random television show together.
It had been a rough couple of weeks, but also a special couple of weeks. We had a new baby in the house, so sleep was hard to come by.
Finally, for what seemed like the first time in ages, all 5 children (baby included) were in bed and we were enjoying just relaxing together.
Someone on the tv was making a joke about how when you are a parent, mornings are the worst part of the day because before you even open your eyes there are little people screaming for your attention.
I was sitting there in my sleep-deprived stupor, hanging on every word he was saying and nodding right along, when I caught my husband grinning out of the corner of my eye.
As I was turning to look at him, I started to voice my agreement with tv man, when the most beautiful words came out of my man’s mouth and stopped me in my tracks.
“My mornings are magical.”
He then went on to explain how much he loves it when, every morning, our children come one by one and get into the bed to cuddle with him. He said it was the best part of his day.
“And then when you give me the baby, it gets even better.”
If hearts could pop from being overwhelmed with love, mine would have burst out of my chest.
Here is this man, this amazing man, saying that he loves it when our children wake him up in the morning. He loves it when I hand off the baby to him after a night of waking every every hour to nurse so I can finally get a little bit of sleep.
I thank God for bringing us together. We are so different, but I’m starting to see how well that works. I am a night owl. And his mornings are magical.