It's My Dance Party and I'll Cry If I Want To

So, my darling husband gets rather bemused and befuddled when I cry for "no reason".

Like last night, we're out with our friends at Downtown Disney (anyone remember when that was called Disney Village?), and we've had a yummy dinner at the Earl of Sandwich (fantastic tomato soup and the All American - yum!). They've set up a kids' area where the spurting fountain sprays little ones with water during the summer, but instead of the water, they're having a kids' dance party.

Lots of little kids, running around and dancing wildly to Hannah Montana and the like, flinging hula hoops and waving inflatable plastic guitars. Then "We've Got the Beat" comes on, and all of us start bopping. Do children today even know that song?

Anyway, our kiddos ran to join in the fun, and we had a fantastic time, just watching them run and jump and boogie. Max rocked out on some inflatable strings, while Emma stood mostly on the sidelines, hands in pockets of her tiny jeans, wiggling from side to side and taking it all in. Every few minutes, she'd glance back at us, then come running to hug Daddy's legs tightly for a moment, then run right back to the circle.

The air was cool and crisp. The wind blew softly. Max paused, mid-guitar-riff, for effect, as he screwed up his face in a "rock n' roll" look. Emma's face was wild joy as she ran and laughed. It was all so perfect. They were precious, and their beauty overwhelmed my heart.

So, okay, I cried. My love and happiness were suddenly overwhelming, too big for my heart and mind to contain. So they leaked out a bit. It happens. But definitely not for "no reason". Only for the most important reason - love, joy, utter contentment. Simply being absolutely happy in that moment, and thoroughly grateful for the awareness of it.

I am so thankful for them. So thankful for him. So thankful for those moments and those tears.