I have been strictly prohibited from writing tonight–

Even though I have the post halfway written in my head

and a handful of pictures to go with it,

so that I can illustrate our family’s coziest Christmas Eve,

just the four of us,

but because I was so warm and cozy, you see, I fell asleep on the fluffy faux fur rug by the fire

and my husband says that if I start writing I will get all riled up and I should just stay calm and go to bed.

Because today…

today has been A DAY.

So I’m actually not technically breaking his rule;

I came upstairs to shower and get into bed (I have a lot of sleep to catch up on)

but first, I am not really writing a blog post, just this, the tiniest of tiny things,

which was not the story of our cozy night.

Except, it was. A little.

Our house was dark.

The kids were asleep in their beds, and rain fell outside our window.

We turned off the lights and stretched out, under blankets, on the rug by the fire.

I let myself drift off, enveloped by warmth of all kinds.

And I will leave it at that. More in the morn.

I can’t break all the rules.

But, I’ll have you know that in the shower I will be singing the verse that is swirling through my brain on repeat:

Staring at the fire for hours and hours while I listen to you
Play your love songs all night long for me, only for me.

Come to me now and rest your head for just five minutes, everything is good.

“Our House” By Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, which just so happens to have been the first concert my husband and I ever saw together.

Really going now.

Everything is good.

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