If you don't have time to watch or read the full speech, here's the tidbit that got my attention. (And judging from the teary eyes around the convention hall, it got many).
She hit a soft, squishy spot with this mother, that spot in my belly that really, truly wants to be an optimist, to listen to my hopes for my family instead of my fears of what ifs. We've all been too caught up in and force fed the scary, worst-case scenarios these last 8 years. I'm ready to start thinking more about the best-case scenarios instead.
Millions of Americans who know that Barack understands their dreams; that Barack will fight for people like them; and that Barack will finally bring the change we need.
And in the end, after all that's happened these past 19 months, the Barack Obama I know today is the same man I fell in love with 19 years ago. He's the same man who drove me and our new baby daughter home from the hospital ten years ago this summer, inching along at a snail's pace, peering anxiously at us in the rearview mirror, feeling the whole weight of her future in his hands, determined to give her everything he'd struggled so hard for himself, determined to give her what he never had: the affirming embrace of a father's love.
And as I tuck that little girl and her little sister into bed at night, I think about how one day, they'll have families of their own. And one day, they – and your sons and daughters – will tell their own children about what we did together in this election. They'll tell them how this time, we listened to our hopes, instead of our fears. How this time, we decided to stop doubting and to start dreaming. How this time, in this great country – where a girl from the South Side of Chicago can go to college and law school, and the son of a single mother from Hawaii can go all the way to the White House – we committed ourselves to building the world as it should be.
Awesome speech, tall girl. You've got my vote for First Lady.