Havala and I went to Panera this morning - just the two of us. Wonderful girl time, sitting at a little table covered in sunlight (we deliberately chose a window seat to soak in some sun) talking and laughing, talking and laughing...enjoying dark coffee and yummy carrot muffin. I'm so very thankful for my girlfriend. She has been the best, the absolutely best to me over the last few years. She put up with my long midnight phone chats with Zac when we were roommates in college....tears over me finding *myself*, tears over me letting go of *myself*, she has helped me so much over the years in my pregnancy and even with watching the kids at least once every couple of months so that Zac and I can have a moment alone. I love her so much. If I do move away from this area, I wish it would be possible to just fold her up and stick in her in my back pocket (a little uncomfy for her...nice for me.) She really is a gem.
Zac is lying on the couch taking a nap with Tristan. I just love this picture I captured a few moments ago...I love it because I know that Tristan's wife someday will adore it. There's nothing like seeing your husband as someone else's baby...makes you want to cherish them the way you know you cherish your son...they are indeed "someone else's baby." A strange thought since it's nice to think of your husband all big and burly...the essence of *manhood.* But underneath that five o'clock shadowed face and ripping biceps (sorry girls to those of you who don't have husbands with the iron muscles) is someone who was once a boy. Strange. Not that you should view them as a child...but as someone that wants time...love...kisses...warmth and security. Love, sweet, simple unconditional love.