Reflections

I laid, or lied, or lay (which is it dad?) awake in bed last night for hours listening to my baby boy itching his chicken-poxy back against the crib, trying to find some relief. Not crying, just itching. It gave me a lot of time to think. I have mentioned it a lot on this blog and numerous times daily to Justin, just how much joy this baby (almost 2 on Monday) boy has brought into my life. I feel, of course, the same about the girls. They are a little older now, and while they still need me, it's not the same. Davis still slips his warm, chubby hand in mine every few minutes. He still likes me to cradle him every night and sing him his favorite songs (Teach Me to Walk in the Light and "The Truck Song" - made up by me and maybe the worst song ever, but he loves it). He still sucks his two middle fingers when he's tired or sad. He still starts shaking with excitement every time he sees daddy pull in the driveway from work. He still melts my heart every time he takes my face in his hands and kisses me on the lips. These are things the girls don't do any more and I know that these moments are fleeting with Davis. I want to hold them tight and not let them go. I want to bottle it all and not forget a moment. I want my Heavenly Father to know how grateful I am for these little spirits that light up my home and my life and make me who I want to be. I want them to know that I may not be a perfect mom, but I love them with a love that I never knew was possible!