86'n It

(I know I'm a day late with this, but Franca was a little sick. I did the morning shift home with her and now Marc is home with her.)

So, I have this theory that if you aren't a super mothering type, you marry someone who is. This theory is based on many couples I know, but mostly on Marc and I. Up until now it has just been a hunch, but now that we are parents, it is amazing how true this really is.

It has also made me realize how lucky I am to have made him marry me. I've always known he was a great guy: Kind, smart, funny, a bit of a perfectionist, but hey, he's very hardworking.

Now, wow, it's at a totally different level. I turn on the baby monitor when I know he is putting Franca to sleep and I can barely take it. The lovability is mind blowing. He'd be mad if I went into detail, but let's just say that part of it includes him leaning over the crib and letting her play with his face while he lists all the white, fuzzy animals he can think of until she falls asleep.

Swoon.

Then there is this photo:

Hotness. Sweetness.

Why did I wait 10 years to have this man's children?

He dresses her in the morning. You should see his giant hands rummaging thru the baby socks to find the ones that match the outfit best. He somehow taught her to do Chewbacca noises. He sits in the backseat of the car while I drive so he can hang with her. He wears her around town the ergo carrier, never thinking of his ego, only her comfort and closeness. He talks to her about hockey, Star Wars, lawn mowing, The White Stripes and olive oil. He's been accused of "accidentally" wake her up so they can play.

And just went I thought my heart couldn't take anymore cuteness, he emails me this:

waking up with gas

ahh i blew out my diaper

smiling talking

restless waking play

my fist fits into my mouth