Two years ago I wrote this to describe a day-in-the-life of Melanie in 100 words or less for a Mother's Day writing contest. I publish it here today, however, for a special purpose. June 7th marks twelve amazing years of treasuring this incredible God-given gift of a woman as my wife.
100 words. One day. One wonderwoman.
Quiet. Sleeping. Still. One.
Cold. Snuggling. Warm. Two.
Dreaming. Wonder. Tossing. Three.
Crying. Baby. Nursing. Four.
Peaceful. Perfect. Rest. Five.
Sunlight. Footsteps. Children. Six.
Coffee. Husband. Breakfast. Seven.
Clothes. Dressing. Toothpaste. Eight.
Kisses. Daddy. Bye. Nine.
Buzz. Downstairs. Laundry. Ten.
Reading. Daughter. Laugh. Eleven.
Backpack. Son. School. Noon.
Blanket. Searching. Found. One.
Napping. Doorbell. Package. Two.
Stirring. Awake. Snack. Three.
Carpool. Home. Smiling. Four.
Fridge. Cooking. Supper. Five.
Dishes. Running. Backyard. Six.
Bath. Pajamas. Books. Seven.
Bedtime. Prayers. Goodnight. Eight.
Couch. Unwind. Novel. Nine.
Heavy. Eyes. Closing. Ten.
Bleary. Diaper. Changing. Eleven.
Quiet. Sleeping. Still. Midnight.
Melanie. Wife. Mama. Day.
And in case you are wondering: She won the contest. Go, Melanie!
I love you always, Aaron.