On the night of Christmas eve, Jared and I did our normal bedtime routine with August except maybe in a little more haste. Because as soon as he was nestled all snug in his crib, we ran downstairs to get things ready for Santa. And that's just about the time that I started pregnant crying all over the living room.
There are these rare, grand moments in my life that I feel as though God is giving me a forehead kiss. And silly as it may be; standing in my Christmas tree lit home with my husband humming Christmas tunes and my baby dreaming of what I can only imagine were sugarplums was one of those moments. I hope I never forget it. I hope to experience it every Christmas. I hope August does, too.
I'm a total sucker for a video montage. Hope you are too.