Footsy

I have a good life.  I really do.  It would be easy for me right now to focus on the negative, be mad at God for taking my son, and forgetting all that He has blessed me with, but I choose not to.  I choose to try (sometimes unsuccessfully) to remember all that I am blessed with.  Tom and I will often talk about what was good in our day.  So, last night as we got in bed I asked Tom what the best part of his day was.  (He usually uses this moment to butter up to me and say something sweet like "when you kissed me" or something else ridiculously sappy....smart man, right?)  But last night I was thinking about the best part of my day.  And for that my friends, I must take you into our bedroom.  (No worries, this blog continues to remain PG.)

 My bedroom is never this clean....;)

I love when Tom and I finally crawl into bed each night.  These days I am usually freezing so I waste no time snuggling up to my hot box of a husband.  We usually laugh as I wrap my arms around him, place my freezing hands on his chest to warm up, and watch as he flops around at the shock of just how cold my hands are!  We often lay there for as little as a few minutes to as much as an hour and talk.  Sometimes the talk is serious, but most often the conversation is light and we laugh at the events of the day. Occasionally, my dear hubby even falls asleep as I am talking his ear off (proof of a hard working man...)  but eventually, it's time to sleep.  (This is the GOOD part.)  We have a final smooch, say our good nights, and turn on our separate sides.  BUT somehow, each night, our feet find each other under the sheets.  It's like magnets pull them together and our nightly footsy session begins.  We don't say anything and pretty quickly we both drift off to sleep, but it's like we can't stand to be apart from each other all night (and yet spooners we are not usually) and so we must be connected somewhere (even if it is our stinky feet.)  I love it!  It brings a little smile to my face and peace in my heart each night. 

 

It's good to be in love.  The chances of divorce for any couple are 50/50.  Those chances go up quite a bit (I've read as much as 60%) for a couple who lost a child. So needless to say, we have some pretty big odds stacked against us. Tom and I, however, have made a commitment to not be a statistic.  We are committed to making our marriage work and surviving this blow.  And although I recognize that it takes a lot more than some nightly footsy to do that, it gives me peace each night to know that regardless of what our day has been,  we are still in this together.  That somehow at the end of the day my husband and I will come together, regroup, catch some z's and try again tomorrow.