2003 was our first Fourth of July as parents. It was also Bryan’s first paid holiday in nearly his entire working life, having lived the high life of a freelancer until I got knocked up with Ruthie. It was the first time I’d ever seen him relax – like, REALLY relax – because he wasn’t thinking about all the money he wasn’t earning that day by not working, or all the all the future business he wasn’t funneling into the pipeline.
Five years later Bryan lost weight, I’ve gained weight, and I have a new growth attached to my hip who goes by the name, Thomas. Also? Ruthie still makes this face when she’s pissed at me. And at bedtime. And when I cut her off at three bowls of cereal.