The day the most beautiful woman in the world walked down the aisle and chose me as her husband. I was getting old and gnarly and she was young, gorgeous and vibrant. A force to be reckoned with. She chose me. She made my life. And still does.
The day Maxwell Thomas came into this world and the following two weeks he spent catching up and fighting his way out of the NICU and to our home. Maybe because he was forced to start early his brain has developed a quick wit. He takes everything in and blows me away with his words. He's tall. He'll be taller than me and I love that. He has a kind heart and can't wait to meet his little brother.
The day Molly Rose came into our lives. It seems she has had that happy little grin since the day she was born. She taught me then, and continues to prove there is only one Molly Rose in our world, and the world might implode if there were another. She tries so hard to use words bigger than she is and more often than not sounds them out even though her definitions may be a little off. But just a little. At five she wants to be an artist. A waltz teacher. A superhero. She is so loving. She is a force like her mother.
Henry Robert. Not so patiently waiting for our second boy to come home. Like Maxwell he couldn't wait to cook all the way and now is playing catch-up in the same NICU. As much as we need him home he needs to be were he is. When he cracks his one eye open and looks up at me, then stretches his little arms above his head and finishes with a little squeaky yawn... It's everything.
I have so much to be thankful for. Our families for taking care of us in this hectic time. The people I work with letting their lives be affected by mine, and being OK with it. I owe all of you big time.
I knew who I was as a teen, as a single adult and I know who I am now. Annie, Maxwell, Molly and Henry. If I am to be defined by them, that's so OK with me.