It feels really good.
That moment, when you're sitting outside with a cup of tea, and your hardworking husband is building you a composter (because you can take the girl out of Nova Scotia but you can't take Nova Scotia out of the girl) and he's tipped his hat at that one delicious angle.
That moment when he compliments a freckle on your ankle.
That moment when he confesses that he misses working with the toddlers underfoot because even though they slow him down, they're such good company.
That moment when the birds are singing and you hear the distant homesick cry of a seagull and you know what it means.
That moment when you can't breathe through your nose because you have a disgusting cold and your husband smiles at you anyway and says around the nail between his lips that you're beautiful.
That moment when you realize you're just like your dad because you are starting to get twitchy about the nails that might be lurking in the grass tomorrow to stab the kids' feet but you don't want to nag and then your husband gathers them up when you haven't said anything.
That moment when you quote your kids to each other because they're so hilariously repeatable.
That moment when he's wearing a Curious George bandaid on his hand to comfort an adhesive-wary three-year-old.
That moment when the baby kicks and rolls over, just to say hi.
That moment when you've been married eight years tomorrow and you can't think of any better realization of your vows and love on that day than the exact gorgeous life you're living right now.
That moment? That's a really good moment.