a little bit more

I used to to love the high of pursuing a love interest and then I would get a sick feeling in my stomach once the chase was over...when I realized I did not possess an everlasting love interest after all.  

{side note}  
I feel some shame now as know I was not the smoothest crayon in the box and would often bungle the whole thing, leaving someone feeling less-than-stellar.  And for those who fell prey to my immaturity, I am sorry.

So this idea that one might find herself a little more smitten everyday - with her partner or with her child(ren) - was always accompanied by a little bit of a sick feeling in my stomach. 

It didn't seem an assurance one could prescribe for a relationship with more authority than a mere old-wives'-tale. 

And then I got married.  

And then I had kids.  

And the other day, I realized that I do indeed, fall in love a little bit more every day.  

Sometimes it's an exuberant love, reminiscent of the chase, but most days it is a slow penetrating love that settles into my bones and deepens my interest despite the immaturity of any given moment.