It hit me that just because Vic was out, it didn't mean I needed to stay home on my hiney. And we all know I could use a break from Peter now and then. Time to text my favorite babysitter.
I called up Rachael and we headed to see "The Artist". It was ok. It was cute. It was well done. But I didn't LOVE it. Plus, there were only 8 people in the theatre and each time we opened our pregnant snacks (Rachael is due in 2 days!) it was so loud in that silent theatre.
But here are my thoughts: I'm home from the movie now. It was great fun. Peter is sleeping and Vic is still snowshoeing. The house is all quiet and still. And all I can think about is how much I love my boys. I crept into Peter's room when I got home and he stood up in his crib, gave me a hug and said, "I love you too," then went back to sleep. Be still my heart!
There is no feeling in this world that comes close to what that does to me. Nothing. He is so adorable I can hardly stand it. I am in awe at his adorableness. I just want to kiss him and cuddle him all day long. With all of the talking he's finally doing lately, his cuteness just slays me.
I marvel at what a miracle he is in my life. He is the living proof of my hope.
And Vic? He just got home and is complaining that his butt is cold. I guess that answers my question...