Today I had one of those moments where I was left in disbelief. I lost my wedding ring in November of last year. Since I took it off in my son’s room to put lotion on and forgot about it, I had assumed he put it in the diaper Genie and it was gone forever. I had torn apart the house and my oldest son told me he put it in the vent in his floor. He had us so convinced that my husband rigged a camera to go down into the vents. Nothing. This was no ordinary ring. It was left to my husband by his grandmother. She left an incredible note for him to give to his bride. Me. I was so irresponsible with something so precious. Something irreplaceable. Speaking of precious and irreplaceable. I looked over this morning to see my 10-month-old son with my wedding ring around his tiny thumb. Completely out of the blue. I had opened the bottom drawer of my dresser to let him pull out the clothes while I got ready. A drawer I had been in before. I stood there in disbelief. When I was pregnant with my Leo I used to rub my belly and jokingly say I was doing so for luck.