HIP HOP

Please forgive the Bud Light keg cup in his hand, because there's Clifford organic cereal in it and sometimes KIDS HAVE TO EAT ON THE RUN. Or stop at a Frat House and do a keg stand. You never know.



I got lucky this Easter and got to kiss one cute bunny:



He continues to prove to me that I am worthy of an unparalleled love. And there are so many of these fingers that shoot up in my heart to interrupt and say "UM, but you don't think I'm crazy because I have chickens in my yard?" and "UM, are you sure you want to be with someone with a child?" and "UM, have you seen how big my ass is?!?"

But this remarkable thing happens: it just gets better. I told him that last night.

It gets better. And stronger. And more intense and amazing and every freaking adjective I could imagine using.

"Love of the Day" continues, morning phone calls continue, talks about him with little people and questions and answers and communication continues and - wow - is that ever a blessing.

I had to let go of wanting it all wrapped up with a bow. I panicked - I wanted it sealed with my new monogram on it. Because that's safe, right?

But I realized that "safe" - is THIS. The growing and the learning and the use of "us" instead of "me" - which, folks, does NOT happen around here. Hasn't happened with anyone in the past, really. I always thought in terms of me. What would I DO? How do I cope / deal / make it right if it all goes wrong? Because, well, HELL, IT DID! Seriously? Whose soul mate gets a traumatic brain injury? This sh*t just doesn't happen to me.

But it did.

Somewhere along the way, in the past few weeks, this wave washed over me, with care. And it's letting me accept that there is just "us" - there's no more just "me."

Huge. The gravity of that is just huge.

And it puts a smile on my face.

As I just wrote to my Grace, let us be the travelers, my friend. A tourist never knows where he has been; the traveler never knows where he is going.