adrionna – Page 5

Year 2, Week 26: We’ll be home for Christmas

We’re officially half-way through our second year of marriage! This year, we figured out to see both families on the days where presence matters the most.

Christmas becomes more special every year. I realize more and more that what I have in my life cannot be taken for granted. I can be upset with circumstances and unhappy with people’s decisions, but ultimately I have a roof over my head, a warm place to dry my hat and gloves, and a heart that beats.

I am so aware of those people who are lonely, grieving, or sick at this time of the year. I’m also cognizant of those who have everything they’ve ever wanted and still don’t feel the joy of family and the warmth of a loving home. I recognize that what I’ve lived in the past 48 hours is nothing short of a Christmas miracle. It’s what I prayed for when Cody and I were long distance. It makes me want to slap 19 year-old Ania on the wrist and say, “See? We made it work. Now stop your sniffling.”

In my Polish family, Wigilia is celebrated every Christmas Eve, so it’s a given that I will spend every December 24th for the foreseeable future in Chicago. Cody, however, has Christmas Day traditions that I really do not want him (or me!) to miss. I usually flew down to Arkansas on Christmas morning, but Southwest Airlines didn’t offer a non-stop flight this year, and every other airline was making sure anyone who wanted to travel this Christmas wouldn’t have money left over for any presents.

At 1:30 a.m., right after Midnight Mass (during which I played and sang at church) we hopped in the car and made our way to central Arkansas. Cody and I switched as the drivers when one would get tired. He took the hard hours of 2 through 5am and then I took the early hours of the morning until the sun came up a little after 7. It was so cool to drive with no one on the road, embracing the “Silent Night, Holy Night” part of Christmas. The drive went by pretty quickly, and we spent the last couple hours talking about whatever we talked about.

I’m convinced that every couple needs to take a long(er) trip before they get married. If your silences aren’t (too) awkward and you find you’re not running out of things to talk about, the person next to you should stick around.

It has meant so much to me that we were able to spend both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with those we love the most. It is special and I almost feel spoiled for having the opportunity to experience the overwhelming love of two families that Cody and I get to call our own.

On the drive over, as I’m thinking all these things and singing out loud “I’ll be home for Christmas…” my heart just about burst when Cody patted my knee and smiled at me, saying, “I already am.”

Santa’s elves found their way to Arkansas, Rudolph’s red nose replaced by a bright red Toyota.

Year 2, Week 25.5: Work Ethic, for the Record.

While I was half-way through my evaluations of 100+ student writing assessments, I could feel his two blue eyes boring into mine. As if his beckoned mine to attention, I felt my eyebrows begin a dance of surprise, and then suspicion.

“What’s up?” I asked tentatively.
“Nothing. I’m just loving you.”

Who says that? And why does it make me so awkward? All the romance novels I’ve read get this all wrong. It’s like his marriage proposal all over again. When he didn’t laugh at my joke, I realized it was for real. Cue butterflies and sweaty palms.

“..Okayy.. That’s really sweet, but I’m not really doing anything worthy of such an outpouring at the moment.” (God’s grace, anyone? Receiving love when you feel you didn’t do anything to earn it?)

He just kept looking and smiling. He eventually walked away and I felt like I could breathe again. If I had only been drinking red wine at the time, maybe I would have been a bit more suave in my reception of his affection? I don’t want him to feel like it’s not appreciated and dissuade such a courtship.

And then this happened again the next day! But this time, as I was into my 17th essay of the day with bedtime approaching, he had something to say, which I can work with.

“You work really hard.”

It meant a lot to hear him say that. I had been grading so many essays in such a short amount of time, that to hear him acknowledge it seemed to give me even more energy to finish. With a grin, I agreed with him, and affirmed, “Yeah, we do work really hard. I don’t think we’d be together if we didn’t have the work ethic we do.” Future Cody and Ania, I hope you remember that praise goes way further than criticism, especially when babies come into the mix.

Real talk for a second though – I’m also secretly starting to get a little nervous. This whole work ethic/working a lot thing hasn’t just been going on in my own life – he has been getting interrupted sleep himself, having to check for code bugs at midnight.. 3am.. 5am.. It’s been cute to hear him figure out ways to stay in bed but also keep the bright light of broken code away from my sleeping eyes. I also know, however, that the boy is human and the boy needs sleep. SO between the two of us working longer hours than normal, this Christmas will be a very welcome break. This may sound facetious, but I do not want to feel like the computer, or work, or our individual pursuits, are coming between us. But this is what we do – we work our asses off in the winter, hustling among 6 different jobs (between the 2 of us) – so that we can buy plane tickets to explore the world. We climb the mountains with 60 lbs packs up the last 1,000 ft. so that we can enjoy the panoramas together. It’s exhausting, but ultimately worth it.

And, Jesus, it now occurs to me that if I replace “computer” with “future baby,” this sounds like a foreshadowing of what’s to come in a couple years. What’s an added 20 lbs of smiles and poop and cuddles? We can do that.

I want to finish with this.

Let the record state that, in this week of our marriage, Cody did say the following words:

“You know, it’s actually a good thing that I can still function and wake up at weird hours of the night. A baby will need that. I can be that.”

Yes, you surely can be, Cody, baby. 😉

Year 2, Week 24: Thanks, Daddy

This last weekend in Chicago ushered in our first snowfalls and the freezing temperatures. I had to work early on Sunday morning to play at Mass, so the snow was still freshly fallen on the relatively short distance (~2 blocks) between my parents’ house and the church. I was prepared to walk the way (nothing like shock to your lungs to wake someone up for singing). When I drove up to my parents’ house, Dad was already out shoveling the back walk-way. After some exchanged pleasantries, Dad casually asked if I was going to walk or drive to church; I didn’t really think anything of it when I told him I’d be walking. I went inside the house to wrap my fingers around a warm cup of tea. Even though I just left from my home, there’s nothing quite like coming home to Mom and Dad’s. I think even their lemons make the tea sweeter.

When I walked out of the house, Dad smiled and said, “Well, that’s the best I could do with my back.” When I looked, I wanted to throw my arms around him and tell him how amazing he was, but we’re European and have a hard time saying “I love you” so I just thanked him and told him I’d see him later.

The man had shoveled a straight path as far as the eye could see from our house to the church, so that my feet could have a clear way to Jesus.

And now tell me again that my expectations for my husband may be too high? It’s my dad who gave them to me. He has been my first (and, in many cases, only) example of what it means to be treated with dignity, respect, and worth – as if I’m worth a cleared path on a cold Sunday morning when he should definitely be sleeping in instead. But, thanks to my dad, I feel like I am.

So when Cody went outside to shovel without any prompting from me, I knew the adage is true – A girl finds a man who reminds her of her father. And what’s so exciting for me is that Cody only shows glimmers of what he could be – what I know he will be – and that’s pretty darn remarkable.

Year 2, Week 23: You do you, baby.

Dear Cody,

I loved being a witness of your life this weekend. We were able to visit Philadelphia, the city that saw you learn what it’s like to live in the “big city” away from your small town in Arkansas. You are social, so you didn’t have an issue making friends. But it was your involvement in the Drexel Smart House that really helped you become who you are – a loyal leader, an incredible thinker, a good friend.

We started dating when you assumed the role of President in this organization that hopes to create an example of sustainable living for others. We spent hours on Skype not really talking, just typing away – me, at my AP U.S. History homework, and you discussing with your best friend Patrick your latest “politicking” plan to get your ideas in front of the University’s President (because that’s the person you are: Go straight to the top.. sheep skin just isn’t your style). I swear there’s nothing more attractive than a man who goes after what he wants, but makes sure he is being kind, ethical, and overall gracious on his way there. There’s also nothing like seeing you when you’re in your element, leading a community of thinkers towards a common goal (and challenging them to imagine even bigger goals while they’re at it). The way you infuse your humor into intelligence is also quite wonderful. I roll my eyes, but you and I both know I secretly adore you for it. Life would be so boring without you.

So when you were back in your element, laughing hard with friends who are quickly becoming some of my best, I couldn’t help but realize how badly I want your eyes to shine just as brightly when you’re home in Chicago, too. This trip was the first time I heard one of your beloved mentors, Joan, admit how upset she (and many others were) when they heard of your decision to leave Pennsylvania for a girl. You know I’ve often felt guilty for taking you away from Arkansas in case you wanted to be with your family, and I have struggled with not feeling guilty for taking you away from your friends, too.

Not difficult to imagine why Cody’s mentor, Joan, had a hard time letting him go to Chicago, is it?

But then I realized listening to you talk about your own childhood desires this morning on our way to work that it’s not “taking you away” from something as much as it is a “running towards” a life with me in it. And boy, do I feel lucky.

I suppose the point of this random love letter is that I had a chance to really see you this weekend. And what I saw especially was how your eyes danced when you were back in that place of leadership, where the memory of crashing high-profile meetings as a student is not actually that far away.

But I think it’s time for you to make new memories. Take bigger risks. Keep dreaming. Solidify those relationships and build a team of mentors, colleagues, and friends that will get you through the valleys and celebrate with you when you reach those peaks. You are a man full of potential and goodness and love. I am honored to be your wife and will be your rubber ducky whenever you need me to be. Besides, if we’re ever in a rut because you followed my advice, well, now we have it in writing. I’ll stand by you no matter what.

I love you more with each passing day. I am already so proud of you. Now go do big things.

Love,

Ania

Year 2, Week 22.5: How I Won NaNoWriMo 2016

A teacher asked us one year as a “First Day of School” icebreaker what our biggest dream was. I was last to answer, and mine was pretty far-out: “I want to write a best-selling novel one day.”

That became “I want to write a novel one day” and, after hearing my father-in-law tell me with zero doubts in his voice, “You know – you’d write a great book” I decided “one day” wasn’t good enough for me anymore. I hated being all talk and absolutely zero action. I committed to NaNoWriMo – writing 50,000 words in 30 days, with the hope that the first draft of a first novel would be born.

In it’s most basic form of understanding, NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Writing Month and, in it’s painful form of explanation, it forced me to confront all the ugly parts about the creative process: the doubts, the uncertainty of whether I could even do this, and the temptation to use excuses of “not enough time” or “writer’s block.”

I learned so much about myself in 30 days – here are 6 ways how.

My husband really is my biggest fan. The man stood there like the father he will be one day, demanding I put my cellphone in his hands because it was distracting me. Again. But he’s also the first one to light up in a smile when I tell him I met my daily word count (1,667 per day, to stay on track). He was able to express physically what I felt mentally: pure joy at me embracing what he (we) always saw as my potential.
I learned who I don’t feel like I have to “please.” As a perfectionist, this is huge. I usually do not like sharing ANYTHING until it is ready for admiring eyes, so if you saw my long-faced SnapChats or I sent you a text message asking for prayers or I saw you and grinned, telling you of my progress, that means I am deeply convinced that you would still love me, even if I completely failed and gave up halfway through November. But it’s precisely because I told you that I’m pretty sure I made it. I wanted YOU as motivation because, even though you would have still loved me, I did not want to let you down. So thank you. Ideally, personalized Thank You cards will soon be in the mail.

Special shout-out to my co-workers in the teacher’s lounge who would ask me what my characters were up to that day. In many cases, what we would discuss often-times fueled that evening’s writing.
I learned how to shut off my “inner editor” – that voice that would keep telling me things like “That sentence was stupid” or “That word is so elementary; you’re an English teacher for crying out loud – how could you not be more precise?” By Day 20 when I was 5000+ words behind, however, I didn’t have time for the inner editor. She needed to go, because I needed to write. Fast. (As a result, I also learned how to write faster. Thank Jesus, because I never would have “made it” otherwise).
I learned how to make writing – this often elusive desire and never a concrete practice – a priority. I look back and wonder how I was able to write SO much in such a short amount of time with so many other responsibilities. Turns out that with less TV and way less Facebook and more intentional, prioritized, scheduled “me” time, I was able to do it just fine (and without losing any sleep!). I needed to stop flaking out on that part of myself that just wanted to write. If a part of me kept feeling like the kid that kept getting ditched, well, that stinks, so I had to start showing up.
I really love writing by myself in coffee shops. The vibe makes me feel like I’m legit. Also coffee makes my fingers move faster. Can’t say the same for my brain, but I try.
Students began coming up to me and asking them if I could give them tips for writing a book. Who, me? But I’m not even published yet (Shh, inner editor.. Shh.) One student even wrote her own 30,000 words, with no intention of slowing down. The day she was 3000+ words ahead of me on word count, I knew I had to get back on track. Competition is the best motivation, I’m telling ya – even when it’s against a 14 year old who doesn’t realize she just started a fire under your butt 😀

In short (ha! I’m even more long-winded now than I was before), I guess I just wanted it bad enough. I don’t want Cody to feel like the kid that keeps getting ditched, so I choose to keep showing up to my marriage, too. Turns out the hard work is worth it – and it gave me plenty of material for the first draft of my very first novel.

We’ll see where this gravy train takes us.

Year 2, Week 21: Don’t Stop Asking Questions

I heard so many great things about last week’s post, written by the husband himself. We so appreciate the kind comments, and I know Cody was especially buoyed by the encouraging words. In fact, I heard so many awesome things about Wife Reflections that I think we’ll just keep this gravy train flowing for as long as we can.

This means that, even when I’m a mom, I’ll be trying to reflect as a wife raising a child, and not just become all-consumed with a singular role. We’ll see how that goes. Is it even possible? Only time will tell. P.S. I’m not pregnant, but see how the topic keeps coming up? Hard to ignore.

Switching gears to this week’s reflection… It occurs to me that, when Cod and I were first getting to know each other, 21 questions was all the rage. So there’s this questionnaire thing floating around on Facebook that I thought would actually be kind of fun to do with Cody. Apparently he’s supposed to just answer the question without any forethought.

At first, the answers are shallow and uncomfortable, but slowly pick up speed. It’s cool to see myself from my husband’s perspective sometimes. It’s also revealing to see how much he’s still unsure of, even after all this time.

It’s a great reminder to never ever ever stop asking questions.

What is something I always say? “Oh uhm”
What makes me happy? Cats
What makes me sad? Feeling like I have the Case of the “Shoulds”
How tall am I? 5′ 10″/10.5:
What’s my favorite thing to do? Nap
What do I do when you’re not around? How would I know? Play on Facebook? Write? Play piano. You teach students to play piano when I’m not around normally.
If I become famous, what will it be for? Uh, pia–ehh.. Hm.. I bet if you became famous, it would be something you’re doing in the classroom. Somehow getting picked up by a media outlet. It would either be previous students like talking about how you teach differently or maybe you start teaching other teachers. I think it’d be more through education because you touch more lives through education than you do writing or piano right now.
What makes you proud of me? There’s so much that makes me proud of you. I was proud watching you sing [the national anthems]. That’s my beautiful wife. I bragged how cool it was to watch you go through the process of writing on a consistent basis and how amusing it was to see you exclaim how surprised you were that your characters were doing something you didn’t expect, even though you are the one writing it. The fact that I can visualize your characters as if I’m actually reading the book.. I’m supremely impressed.
What is my favorite food? Cheesecake
What is my favorite restaurant? Any with lights and good-smelling soap in the bathroom.
Where is my favorite place to visit? That’s a hard one for us. I don’t think Hawaii was your favorite place. I don’t think Costa Rica was either. Was Greece? You never seem as excited about Greece when I talk about it. Places you’ve been without me? Or maybe it just seems you’re more excited because I’m sad I wasn’t there with you. You say the mountains. You’re always saying the mountains. I don’t know if I believe you. But if I had to answer, I’d say the mountains, because that’s what you say.
If I could go anywhere, where would it be? Heaven.
You get a phone call that I am in trouble, who am I with? If you were realistically going to get into trouble with the law, supposedly, I mean like, the obvious go-to is either Vanessa or Kristen. One-on-one, you’re fine. But in big groups, you get antic-cky. You want to show off. So I think back to the time when you were out with Halyna, Stacie, Emily, Ashli, and Angela.
How do I annoy you? Ugh, let me count the ways. …I don’t want to answer this question. Why hurt feelings needlessly right now?
Who is my favorite actor? All I can think is Magic Mike.
Who is my celebrity crush? See above.

Year 2, Week 19: No more “Someday”

Freshman year of high school: “I dream of writing a best-selling novel.”
Senior year of high school: “Before I’m thirty, I hope I’ll have published a book.”
Sophomore year of college: “I’ll start writing when I have more time.”
Senior year of college: “…What is time, really? Is it real? I’ll write when I’m older.”
First year out of college: “I have to focus on being a good teacher, first.”
A week ago: “What if I become pregnant and I only have nine months to write a book before I really don’t have time to write? I am so sick of saying ‘Someday.’ Might as well just do this thing.”

So I started writing a novel, using NaNoWriMo as a guide, mentor, and structured stress motivator. I was tired of Cody always asking every New Years Eve, “So.. New Year’s resolution.. writing a book this time?” Supportive husbands, amiright? I kept telling him that, someday, when I put my mind to it, I’ll do it. I’m happy to report that I am writing an average of 1,679 words a day, for a grand total so far of 11,756 words. I’m thinking of updating my progress here. Don’t ask what’s driving me to write because I think it’s really just my past self’s prayers for future and present me. I’m genuinely enjoying the writing process and have WifeReflections to thank for that.

Very seriously, the messages of encouragement and validation that I have received from so many different people from totally different walks of life have kept me updating this blog week by week. Who knew people would be interested in the realities of my relationship? It is so humbling and magnificent to experience. Thank you.

I don’t mean to make this post seem so short and flippant, but I really need to sleep and prove that I met my word count so Cody will give me my phone back. It’s so past my bed time. Maybe I’ll be so busy working on this “book” that Cody will have to update his very own husband reflection next week. Stay tuned!

Year 2, Week 18: Why “Wife Reflections”?

It is so easy to become disillusioned with society’s ideas of a fulfilling single life, especially when you’re married. It’s so easy to fall into the trap of thinking the grass is greener on the other side.

My antidote? Constant vigilance, prayer, and preventative maintenance.

But that’s not really what I want to discuss in this week’s reflection.

I was able to go to a Pentatonix concert this last week and it was amazing!! I hadn’t expected an opening performance by Us the Duo, but I was really glad they did. Two young 20-somethings took the stage and introduced themselves as a married couple, about to sing their favorite song in the whole world. They proudly shared that the lyrics of the song are their wedding vows. They painted a beautiful picture to the audience of them singing to each other in a wedding gown and black tux. The song itself, “No Matter Where You Are,” is a beautiful reminder for couples what kind of commitment and sacrifice marriage requires in order to survive. What really got to me, though, was the fact that an arena full of people were witness to a strong married couple essentially renewing their vows in front of them. And applauding. I swear I had to squint my eyes to keep the tears from spilling over. In a culture that makes light of “starter marriages” and echoes “(s)he wasn’t perfect but I’m worth it and deserve the best, so it’s his(her) loss,” it was so so so refreshing to witness this celebration of marriage.

Basically, it made me want to hug my husband instead of looking over at the single guy in the next row over. And we need more of that culture.

To be honest, I think that’s why I keep writing my Wife Reflections. I want to be a voice in the culture that raises marriage up instead of bashing it as the lesser life choice. I can be independent and strong and a feminist but still allow myself to melt into cuddles that make me feel safe. I can make my own decisions and pay my own bills but still contribute to a joint account that pays for the roof above our heads. I can wear high heels that make me just a little bit taller than my husband when we go out and still enjoy him taking the lead on a conversation about life insurance. It doesn’t make me any less of a woman for choosing to sacrificially share my life.

So I guess I keep writing these Wife Reflections so I can show that divorce doesn’t have to linger over a couple’s heads like a storm that’s about to let loose. It doesn’t even have to scare a couple from considering marriage in the first place. It’s hard work, but it is so worth it. I hope I show the real side, but I also hope the magic shines through, too.

Singleness announces to the world, “I’m not perfect, but I’m worth it.”
Marriage adds, “I’m not perfect, and neither is he. But he’s worth it.”

Year 2, Week 17: “How Many Kids Do We Have Again?”

Last Thursday we received text messages from some of the kiddos in our lives. One was from a sixth grader who’s just started playing basketball and was excited to invite us to a 7:45pm game the following Friday night, and the other text was sent by our sophomore Poms girl who wanted to know if I could come see her perform at the football half-time show a few hours earlier on the same day.

Of course I said yes. It didn’t matter that my free Friday night just turned into a definitely-not-free Friday night, or that I had told them I’d be there without consulting Cody (FYI the result would have been the same, it’s just respectful to ask whether he had any expectations for the weekend and compromise from there). When I told Cody that I’d be going to our sweet sophomore’s game and then we’d go to our niece’s game later, Cody just smiled and asked, “How many kids do we have again?”

“How many kids do we have again?”

It was a perfect response to something he could have rolled his eyes at, or begun complaining about (“But it’s a Friday night…”). Instead, he so perfectly summed up why it was important for us to go -of course we’d go show our support on a Friday night because we love the young people in our lives as closely as if they could be our own. It’s what we do.

The half-time show was awesome. The girls’ kick line was really impressive and our sweet sophomore’s smile was enough to warm my heart, even if my fingers were frosting over. When I met Cody at home a little while later, we were able to chit-chat about our work-day and then we left for our niece’s game.

A moment I especially love happened during the basketball game. There was a girl who didn’t look like your “typical” athlete on the opposing team (whatever the hell that even means) – and it was clear to us that she was new to the sport, but it was even clearer that she was super self-conscious. In the defense of her authenticity, you could also tell she tried not to let that tween awkwardness stop her, either. With the game tied at 11, we watched that same young girl score the penultimate point and witnessed the glow-up of the century: the big smile, the high-fives from her teammates, and the fact that, with only 2 minutes remaining in the game, she was leading her team to victory. It was quite a magical moment to see. Cody and I both grinned. With all the goodness behind his voice, he quietly said, “Good for her.” I affirmed, “That girl’s weekend is made.” It was a small moment in our witness, but it was a big one in this human being’s experience. The fact that Cody and I both reacted the same way to this girl’s success tells me all I didn’t realize I needed to feel – that, as future parents, we may not always say the same things, but we’re usually on the same wavelength.

Ultimately, however, in hindsight, what wasn’t said is more important than what was.

Here’s what he never said:
“Why did you bring me here?”
“How long is this going to be?”
“This is painful to watch.”
“She is painful to watch.”
“Poor girl.”

Instead, we focused on the positive. So they’re not that great yet? That’s okay. At least they have a reason to run back and forth. And, sometimes -stupendously- experience such empowering moments that even the sleepy adults in the stands notice. I’m just glad it was my husband who noticed right alongside with me. Pretty cool stuff.

Year 2, Week 16: “Bed time is the best time!”

This last New Year’s Eve, Cody and I decided that, in addition to our own individual New Year’s resolutions, we’d also create “Couple Goals.” In that Goals list were things like cooking healthier meals with fresher ingredients, creating and maintaining budgets, and even setting a regular bed time that we’d follow.

It’s this regular bed time that I want to reflect on this week.

I would not be the relatively high-functioning, usually kind and happy-go-lucky person if I did not receive at least 7 hours and 15 minutes of sleep every night (yes, I’ve noticed the pattern and no, it does not make me lame). Waking up with enough dream-juice in the tank helps me do everything I need to do with hundreds of different personalities every day (yay, teaching!). Without it, I am simply a lesser version of myself, and that’s not cool for anybody. I become shorter-tempered and eat way more than I need to. And I am way too much of a control-freak to be ruled by the monster that is Lack of Sleep.

So at 8:30pm, an alarm goes off on Cody’s phone reminding us to clean-up around the house (any clothes on the floor or dishes that need to be washed are ideally tended to at this time). This alarm is boring.

At 9:05, however, another alarm sings, heralding my absolute favorite time of the day. Bed Time.*

*Hilarious, because I remember never falling asleep at my parents-requested 9pm bedtime. I realize now this was their bed-time, not mine. Sorry, Dad.

Sometime around 9:30, I make a big show of diving into all the covers and smile up at Cod as he closes the door for the night. “Bed time is the best time!” I always sing. And he laughs every time and joins me in the sea of blankets.

“Bed time is the best time!”

It’s either the over-tiredness or complete comfort we feel in each other’s presence, but I swear we’re at our funniest right before bed. We crank out the punniest jokes and find ways to make lighter those rougher days. We literally find a way to laugh out the bad stuff.

It’s crazy to point out, though, that I never would have realized how important our bed-time ritual is to our marriage if we had not spent this weekend away from home. I would have continued to take it completely for granted. Instead, my in-laws (parents and grands) commented the next morning on what they heard before we fell asleep after our 2:30am arrival:

We couldn’t stop giggling.

And this is a regular thing – but because I hadn’t had a chance to stop to appreciate it, I kept taking it for granted.

Bed time is the best time because my bed-time is full of security and snuggles and so so so so so much laughter. I believe it’s a testament to how vulnerable and open we have become with each other, and I couldn’t feel more blessed to have it this way.

So if you ever invite us over to your home to spend the night, apparently you will have noises keeping you up for a little while. But don’t worry – I hear laughter is contagious.