Unplanned Traditions.

Tim rocks Rosemary to sleep every night. While he rocks, he sings "Amazing Grace" and gazes into her eyes. He has told me that nothing is sweeter than keeping eye contact with her as she falls asleep. Every now and then she will peep an eye open to see if he's still looking. He always is.

I can't be certain of when this tradition started. It definitely wasn't intentional, but somewhere along the way, bedtime became something special between the two of them.

Every day, after Rosemary's afternoon nap, we have ice cream. "Do you want some ice cream?" I ask, and she smiles and nods her head excitedly in response. We sit at the table, eating ice cream and watching for people and puppies walking by outside the window. Our version of "ice cream" happens to be little more than frozen coconut milk, but it's special and she knows it.

It's a tradition that started without forethought, but continues with intentionality.

Unplanned traditions. They happen spontaneously. And they're extra sweet.