The Little Things…

One of my favorite things about my husband is that he is always thinking about me. What wife doesn’t enjoy being on her husband’s mind? It always takes me back to the beginning of our dating stages. One of my favorite memories when Josh and I first started talking was receiving a text one evening that said “Great…I locked my keys in my trailer because I was thinking of you.” Obviously, I’ve never forgotten that.

Don’t get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoy well thought-out romantic ideas…but there’s something about the little things that really does it for me.

Like coming home from a friend’s house late one night this week. We were in separate vehicles and I needed gas in my vehicle. He followed me to the gas station and pumped my gas for me because it was late and he didn’t want me out by myself.

…and like making me my coffee while I’m getting ready because he knows I won’t have time. I needed those 10 extra minutes of sleep. But not only making me my coffee, but also putting it in a specific cup…one that I would choose.

…and sneaking flowers and a hand-made card on my office desk, like you did back when we dated.

…and reaching your hand over in the middle of night just to make sure I’m there.

…and randomly texting me that you love me and you’re thinking of me.

…and rolling your eyes and making the “ugh” sound when you find out we have to take two separate cars into town. Not because of gas usage or miles being put on the car, but because you like riding with me.

Here’s to 7.5 years of marriage that you have done an amazing job at making me still feel like your girlfriend.

Come Snuggle.

Dear Melody,

Last night around 4AM you came into our room as quietly as you could. You drug your blanket along the carpet as you tip-toed to my side of the bed. You climbed up and over my body as you made your way between me and daddy. You climbed under the covers and scooted close to me, laying your head on my pillow…and then you didn’t budge.

You thought you had successfully snuck into our bed but the truth is, I let you.

Because I wanted to snuggle.

…and because I know when you’re a teenager you won’t come crawl between me and daddy in the middle of the night to snuggle.

The way I see it, is a few kicks to the face and the covers being anywhere but on me, is completely worth it when you scoot close and your warm little toes find their way under my legs. Or when I wake up to your sweet face saying “good morning, mom” as you lay your head on my tummy.

So for now, the answer will always be “come snuggle.”