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On this special day Irish tradition/folklore allow women to take a leap, take charge, bend the knee and propose to their men. It's superstitious and a little cute if I'm honest. I once drank so much vodka, that I proposed to my man. He didn't say yes that night, only questioned "Where is the ring?".

I guess we all take a leap in choosing our forever person. We trust, we hope, we believe our hearts will be safe in this union of souls. The sacred vows mean something to us. We are that couple that truly means til death do us part. In a world so riddled with divorce, we are not going to end up another miserable statistic. This weighs on my exhausted mind today.

Do I want a divorce? No. Do I love my husband? Undoubtedly Yes. Am I experiencing post partum depression? Nah, it's just my life for the moment.

I have a beautiful little daughter. 7 months old and thriving. L has brought a purpose to my life I never knew I was missing. Some days I grieve for the girl I once was. Truly carefree and dancing on the beams of the sun.

My pregnancy was easy and giving birth was a breeze. Motherhood is the hard part. The little or no sleep, the hours breastfeeding, the little human depending on you for absolutely everything. The easy part is loving her unconditionally.

I use to think I knew what unconditional love was before her, but I was naive . My ego used to be full and boastful. I now know my husband comes with *conditions apply* I have set these conditions, some on purpose, some by chance and others by circumstance. Most of the time these conditions seem elastic. They bend and stretch. They need to be, otherwise, "Snap!" and we're broken.

As tired parents we disagree. We are isolated in our move interstate. I need help, I want help, it takes a village to raise a child right? I think I'm doing an exceptional job with no family support and no days off. I am the fulltime caregiver. I know, I signed up for this and I love it.

My heart aches though, as the village helping to raise my child is filled with mythical characters. A Barbarian, Crusader,
Demon Hunter, Monk, Necromancer, Witch Doctor and a Wizard. My husband has invited them to our home as they work together to defeat Diablo.

8 hour beer and gaming sessions wouldn't feel so lonely if Monk made me a warm cuppa or the Barbarian rubbed my tired shoulders. The Witch Doctor could heal my painful wrists and perhaps the Demon Hunter would vanquish all my negative self talk when I feel like I'm failing at parenting.

This is not a husband is so bad rant. I really just miss him in those times. I never seem to phrase it with eloquence or a calm ease as I'm often so tired and disappointed when Bob his PC gets turned on. I think the new age kids call it being triggered. Lately the conditions around my husband have been set to high. He does a lot for us and I am grateful.

This is nothing new to the pair of us. We will disagree, spend the night apart and often kiss at sunrise. It is a new day after all and we have little L to prioritise.

I chose my forever person 16 years ago. I choose him today and for all days. I propose we start a new tradition when our family of 3 all dance on the beams of the sun.

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