I’ve begun to wonder if I think about, talk about, ponder all too often these grand feelings of being blessed.  I know very well how the good times in life ebb and flow, and I’m certainly in a high tide of happiness…floating through days feeling oh so very blessed.  When I let my mind wander too far, I grow a bit fearful that what goes up must come down, but then I rein in that thinking and simply savor the emotions of the present.

Chris and I have this perfect little man all our own.  He brings us joy every single day beginning with a soft coo with which to wake us and ending with an even softer snore in my arms before bed.

The simplest of pleasures. A baby eating tomato, watermelon, whatever we will feed him.

A peaceful stroll.

Surrounded by friends and family full of love.

A healthy little man, growing bigger by the day.

A husband I am proud to call my son’s father.

A son…I have a son (sometimes it’s still a shocking notion).

Holding my tiny little Nugget in my arms, I feel more beautiful than I ever have before.

But let us not forget these legs. THESE LEGS.

How did we get so lucky?

How did we get so blessed?

And how do we ever begin to pay it forward?

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