In this family, we hold hands. For playing and loving and laughing and crying, we hold hands. We grab the baby’s fists and jiggle them until his grin widens into a squeal.
In this family, bedtime is a four-letter-word. We speak it gently, so as not to anger the sleepy ones. We speak it lovingly, because oh yes, bedtime is sacred.
In this family, little girls can be rock stars and pirates and princesses and fairies and ladybugs, all in the same twenty-minute span.
And daddy can be Superman. And mommy can be the Evil (but super sweet on the inside) Queen.
In this family, kisses sometimes require instructions: no licking, please. But eskimo kisses and butterfly kisses and bumblebee kisses and fishy kisses are serious day’s-end requirements.
And we show our love with wildly silly attitude.
With imperfect apologies.
With knock-down hugs.
With mis-kneaded dough and mis-applied glitter.
In this family, we show our imperfect love without restraint.
Because in this family, we are bigger than this family. We swell and pulse with glowing light until we become more full and promising than the sum of our broken parts.
And in this family, the broken parts are a whole lotta fun.