Half Dozen

I woke up this morning just after five. The house was silent.
I remembered waking up on the same Saturday morning, before five, six years ago.
The day I became a wife.



The dog sleeps on our bedroom floor.
His bed is right next to my side of the bed.
And, as he is prone to do, when he gets up each and every night, he goes around the foot of the bed, seeking out the Dad.



My side of the bed is nearest the door.
On those early mornings when the lil' dude thinks she needs to be up before us, she also goes around the foot of the bed, to the furthest side of the room, seeking out her Daddy.



It's clear we need him. It's clear he's our first line of defense, no matter the situation.
Most of the time, we all just want to be tucked back in, comforted, soothed.
Because there is no one better than him for any of that.



I love you this morning, and this day, this Saturday the 12th of November just as I have for years and years.
Thank you for simply ... being you.
To me and this family.



And seriously?
Thank you for your unending tolerance for my apparent love of self-photography ... as evidenced by these snapshots.
It's how I roll.
With you.

Mama loves.