I used to think

 I used to think being rich meant big houses and fancy things.

Now I know better.

Rich is hearing little feet run down the hallway in the morning.
It’s having a fridge with food, a bed that’s warm, and tiny arms that wrap around you just because.
It’s a house full of laughter, chaos, love, and the kind of mess that means life is happening.

I look around and see more than I ever dreamed of.
Not because it’s perfect, but because it’s ours.

This kind of wealth doesn’t show up in your bank account.
It shows up in the way your child says “I love you” before bed.
In the quiet moments you realize you created a safe space out of nothing but love.

I never imagined I’d be this rich.
But here I am.
Overflowing.