On marriage in general, and mine in particular

The nice thing (okay, one of them) about being married is that it matters less what everyone "else" thinks. You really have just one person to please, and one person that you need to have agree with you (on important stuff). Once you've got that one person on your side it doesn't really matter if anyone wants to disagree from the outside. The inside is all solidarity.
Mr Renn and I generally do a great job of agreeing about important things. There are a few issues that still rear their heads on a near-daily basis, but the vast majority of these are typical gender issues. (Like the "If you were listening when I was talking then why can't you remember what I just said?" issue.)
Luckily, we also agree on some bonus stuff, and that is just fun.

And we complement one another terribly well. Mr Renn can make up for my total inability to make small talk, and I can make the effort to maintain deep and meaningful long-term friendships. Mr Renn can tackle the messes I'm too tired to even see at the end of a pregnant day. And generally, if one of us is losing patience with Sir O, the other of us just happens to have a generous amount of patience on-hand. It works great.

It's kind of crazy to think we've been married almost 5 years. On the one hand we can't quite remember what it was like not being in the middle of each other's lives. On the other hand, we both still feel like we're in our early 20's, until we realize that the people we know in their early 20's seem awfully young to us. I guess we are getting old and we're okay with it.

Mr Renn and I back in the early days of dating. You know, the kind without kids or babysitters.

I'm smart enough to know that I'm lucky. I'm not smart enough to remember to feel lucky all the time, but very few people are. I'm learning, I expect that's what I'm here for.

I remember having a distinct impression (in the Temple actually) during the time when Mr Renn and I were hemming and hawing about taking the plunge and becoming parents. We're going to be good parents. Our kids are excited to belong to us, and they are wondering why the heck we aren't more excited to belong to them too. There are so many sad conditions that so many children are born into. The world needs more people raised in homes like ours.

Yeah, I realize that sounds potentially big-headed, boastful, and even ignorant. But hey, they weren't thoughts coming from me. They were put there by Somebody else. And I'll be the first person to volunteer that good parenting does not necessarily equal children who make good decisions. And to me "good" parenting boils down to more or less a matter of trying. If you actually care whether you're a good parent or not, you probably are one. Still, that impression is what got the ball rolling. And it was a good thing, because it turns out we aren't the sort of people who can "pick" what month or season our kids will be born. (Do you think a sane person would choose to have a baby in January in the frigid NorthEast?) God is just so dang good at His job. I love knowing that He knows exactly what I need, and gets it to me. (whether I want it or not)

Mr Renn just came in to get ready for bed. He checked on Sir O in bed first, and commented to me, "We have a sweet boy."

That about sums up my life, and everything I love about it.
I hope your life is sweet too.