Grateful

That is one powerful word. When I see that word I feel like crying. I have so much to be grateful for in my life. I am loved beyond measure, I have an incredible family and have everything I need. I’m truly blessed and one who does not deserve such blessings, yet still I am. I find lately that maybe I’ve been looking so far into myself and this new role as a mother – am I good enough, can I be doing something better, what can I be doing to control the situation - that I’m forgetting the true joy of what’s around me, who’s around me. Not to mention, forgetting to convey how truly grateful I am.

It’s easy to complain about missed naps, being a stay at home mom and never getting to leave “the office,” or wishing my husband didn't have to work so much. Let’s not forget here that's he’s the only one working …

Grateful. How could I forget such a humbling existence? So this post is dedicated to my husband, to the love of my life. As much as I love our son, Colgan’s father was my first love. We’ve always had that affectionate, lovey-dovey love that makes other couples sick. Heck, it made me sick until I met Chris. Then it was like “lightning running through my veins.” He makes me smile when I’m anxious and laugh when I’m sad. He’s the greatest person I know. I am so thankful to be on this adventure of life with him. I couldn’t imagine it with anyone else. My friend Brandi sent me that Faust quiz from Vanity Fair once, and the easiest question I answered was who I looked up to – my husband. I’ve never met a more humble, thoughtful and compassionate person, that is, until I met his mother. But, that’s for another day.