Those three have my heart. I love being their mommy. I love being his wife. I love this place we're in, even if it's sometimes a tired place where the laundry pile never fully disappears .... there's nothing I'd rather be doing, nowhere I'd rather be than right here at home with this little family. We're in a happy place. There's this soul deep feeling that we're exactly where we're supposed to be, doing just what we should be doing. That we've found a balance that's allowing us all to thrive, that closing our eyes and taking a cross-country, city-to-country, TexMex-to-cheese-curd leap of faith was precisely what we needed to do to get to this happy place. That we don't know where we'll be five or ten years from now, but there's no yearning for someplace or something else, no urgent itch for some other kind of life, because this one fits quite right. And there are evenings like the one above, that start out as killing time in a touristy restaurant while the power is out at home, and end up with the four of us out past bed time, strolling hand in hand down the sidewalk pretending to be tourists ourselves, smiling and waving at passerby, littles giggling uncontrollably as their feet swing up and off the ground .... and me feeling like there's just no way life gets better than this.
It may not be the fanciest family portrait we've ever taken, but it's so real. It's happy. Leaky sippy cup, ketchup spotted shirt, and all.