These days are full of burp rags and 2 a.m. feedings; diaper after diaper after diaper and tiny baby snuggles.
Watching them take in this whole new world with wide, innocent, beautiful eyes. Something new to them every day, each piece filling my heart more and more.
These days are full of wiping 3-year-old buns and filling milk cups; taking breakfast and lunch orders and cleaning off hands and faces.
Figuring out when to let them try it and when to keep doing it myself. Knowing they want to learn and grow but selfishly wanting them to stay my babies forever. Trying to raise them to be good, kind, strong adults while making sure they live childhood fully.
I tell them constantly – enjoy every single day and year as a kid, because once you’re a grownup, you’re a grownup for the rest of your life. Being a kid is so much more fun!
These days are full of “Mama, watch me,” and “Mama, know what?” and “Mama, can I have that?” and “Mama,” “Mama,” “Mama.”
And I try to answer each and every one, because I know someday I’ll hear it no more.
These days are full of giving back pacifiers and rubbing tiny noses, soothing and calming just by being near.
These days are full of onesies and strollers and bikes and dolls and toys and imagination and creation and fun. Even the really, really long days. Start over in the morning, look back, and I can always see the fun. They’re kids. They do.
These days are full of laundry and messes and cleaning and laundry and messes and cleaning. But they’re mine, and I get to do them. I don’t have to wait until after work or on the weekend.
These days are full of one more kiss when I go to bed. They’re always deep in sleep and smell warm. Like these long summer days of play.
These days are rarely my own and are almost completely for these 5 incredible, magical, wonderful little faces. But that alone makes me ridiculously happy.