I didn't notice that I sigh and put my palm against my cheek when I'm tired or that I let my eyebrows do the talking. A lot.
My husband didn't notice that he stands with one hand in his pocket when he's talking to friends or that he crosses his arms and drums his fingers when he thinks.
I didn't notice that I rarely say, "yes" - it's usually mm-huh or yep or sure or yeah. Nor did I notice how often I say, "Not right now" or "I don't think so" or "Let's do ..." instead of, "No."
My husband didn't notice how he wrinkles and wads his napkin while he eats, or that he uses both hands to lightly pat his face with water, after shaving.
I didn't notice that my lips go smack with each kiss I give, or that I always - always - tell Hubby I love him before he goes to work. And he says, "I love you, too."
But E did. He noticed it all.
I recently heard someone say, "The most important stage in the world is our own living room," and I can't get that simple truth out of my head, because one thing is for sure. Whether good, bad, or neither, our children are noticing everything.