Cooper is an Army Crawling Machine. That kid is FAST! He is into anything and everything but has a love for cords/wires. Awesome...
Lucas did the Army Crawl just long enough to say, "See, I can do it." Now, as he did with rolling, he's tucked it away only to be used in case of emergency... and by emergency I mean there is something he really wants that is out of his reach.
Lucas is starting to wave a little bit. Cooper waves all the time.
C is teething. His bottom right gum is very swollen, so I'm hoping we get our first tooth here soon. Very exciting :)
L is a drool box but nothing is even swollen in that little mouth. He may never have teeth!
They are sitting so well that we've retired the bath slings and they now sit in the tub like the big boys they are (cue dramatic sobbing from the heartbroken mother...).
Hayden's newest words are: instrument, trash can, slippery, and carry you (which means, carry me). He's also learned the fine art of tattling. Michael closed the bathroom door for two seconds while Hayden was in the bath and he lost his mind over it. When I went to smooth things over he looked up at me with tear-filled eyes and said, "Mommy, I'm scared! Daddy closed the door and Hayden cried!"
It was soooooo cute and sad and all of that. Then he told Michael that "Daddy scare me" and when Daddy asked why he said "Daddy closed the door and Hayden cried". That'll teach Daddy! Daddy started crying too and promised to never, ever do it again.
Oh, boys!
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Mind Vomit
Some days I feel like I'm a child playing make-believe.
I go through our routines every single day. I play with my children, care for them, bathe them, change them, dress them, feed them, put them to bed, wake them from sleeping, kiss their "owies", and punish when necessary. For some reason, it doesn't seem real 90% of the time.
Most days, I don't really believe I have children, and then there are the other days. The days where reality comes crashing down around me. Now, don't take that the wrong way. This sudden crash of reality does not incite me to proclaim, "What have I done?!" On the contrary, it evokes a feeling of complacency. Everything around me settles and I know I'm okay, we're okay.
The strangest of these "realizations" is what leads to them. This time around, it was socks. Yes, socks. All of the boys have hit growth spurts and have thus outgrown their socks. When we were at the store at the weekend, I purchased three packages of little socks. Three. Three packs. Three boys. All mine. I don't know why it effected me, but it did.
With the reality of truly having children, also came the reality of how fast they are growing. Again, it was the socks. This time around, I had to go to the little boys section instead of the infant/toddler department to purchase Hayden's socks. That was devastating.
Today, as he climbed on our bed for bit of exercise (or jumping, however you look at those things ;) ) I really got to looking at him. He's so tall! I look at him from behind and argue with myself over what I'm seeing. It seems impossible that he is only 2.5 judging by his size, and yet it seems impossible the he is already 2.5 judging by the feeling that he was born just a few days ago. Watching him in his day by day transformation is unreal. Today, as I studied his face, I realized that nearly all traces of "baby" have left him. I love watching him grow and it is so fun to help him learn new things, but my heart aches at how fast time has moved.
Today, the twins are 8 months old. I am sitting here wondering how that is possible. It just doesn't seem feasible that that much time has past since we welcome our new, tiny, precious additions to our family. It has been such a roller-coaster of emotions and I feel like it's all gone too fast. There were so many days that all I could was pray to make it to the next, pray for a small stretch of sleep, pray for a small break from the crying. Today, I find myself wanting to makea deal. I would go back and struggle through all of our bad days, just to have more time with my babies as babies.
Physically, I feel the full weight of those eight months. I'm exhausted and I look like crap. My hips have yet to recover from the brutal beating they took at the hands of twin-pregnancy and we won't even begin to discuss the awful "twin skin". Michael informed me yesterday that my new "style" makes me appear that I am always on my way to a softball game. It seems I've taken up the easy attire formally known as "jeans, t-shirts, and tennis shoes". I guess the fact that my hair is never down doesn't work to my advantage either. I could take the time out of my day to style my hair and press my more feminine clothes to make them fit to wear, but that would take away from my already "limited" (yes, I know it's not truly limited, but I feel that it is) time with my boys.
I'm terrified of my babies growing up. I absolutely dread having to let them loose in this world and the fact that I won't always be able to protect them from it. As I read Hayden his bedtime story, I became wistful. The story was telling children that even though they are scared of the dark, of what may be in the dark, the animals in the wilderness, that there is really nothing to fear of the night. I wish with all of my being that those scenerios were true and pausable. I wish that I could make all of the bad in this world disappear.
It makes my head reel to think that the biggest dangers in our world, the biggest threats to my precious babies, were once regarded as other mothers' precious babies. I worry about my children growing up and falling victim to one of those other former-babies turned monsters and part of me wonders if those mothers feared the same as I do, or if they feared, if they'd known, that their babies would become the world's bad dreams?
I feel that I've come to the point in life where you stop seeing things and people as you feel they should be and begin seeing them for what and who they are truly are. In the grand scheme of things, I'm a new mother, not to mention just emerging from teenage years. I've been an "adult" just barely longer than I've been a mother and I'll be the first to admit I've much to learn about life.
I wonder if I am too young to really grasp the world and my surroundings in the way that others do, or if I'll always see them differently. Will my views and opinions on things soften and change as I age? Or will I always be stubborn and headstrong? I wonder if my self-assurance isn't fading with my youth or if maybe my new found fears and insecurities are merely the result of my wisening up.
It seems my head was a bit full this evening. For now, I'll leave the thought process alone and simply say good night.
I go through our routines every single day. I play with my children, care for them, bathe them, change them, dress them, feed them, put them to bed, wake them from sleeping, kiss their "owies", and punish when necessary. For some reason, it doesn't seem real 90% of the time.
Most days, I don't really believe I have children, and then there are the other days. The days where reality comes crashing down around me. Now, don't take that the wrong way. This sudden crash of reality does not incite me to proclaim, "What have I done?!" On the contrary, it evokes a feeling of complacency. Everything around me settles and I know I'm okay, we're okay.
The strangest of these "realizations" is what leads to them. This time around, it was socks. Yes, socks. All of the boys have hit growth spurts and have thus outgrown their socks. When we were at the store at the weekend, I purchased three packages of little socks. Three. Three packs. Three boys. All mine. I don't know why it effected me, but it did.
With the reality of truly having children, also came the reality of how fast they are growing. Again, it was the socks. This time around, I had to go to the little boys section instead of the infant/toddler department to purchase Hayden's socks. That was devastating.
Today, as he climbed on our bed for bit of exercise (or jumping, however you look at those things ;) ) I really got to looking at him. He's so tall! I look at him from behind and argue with myself over what I'm seeing. It seems impossible that he is only 2.5 judging by his size, and yet it seems impossible the he is already 2.5 judging by the feeling that he was born just a few days ago. Watching him in his day by day transformation is unreal. Today, as I studied his face, I realized that nearly all traces of "baby" have left him. I love watching him grow and it is so fun to help him learn new things, but my heart aches at how fast time has moved.
Today, the twins are 8 months old. I am sitting here wondering how that is possible. It just doesn't seem feasible that that much time has past since we welcome our new, tiny, precious additions to our family. It has been such a roller-coaster of emotions and I feel like it's all gone too fast. There were so many days that all I could was pray to make it to the next, pray for a small stretch of sleep, pray for a small break from the crying. Today, I find myself wanting to makea deal. I would go back and struggle through all of our bad days, just to have more time with my babies as babies.
Physically, I feel the full weight of those eight months. I'm exhausted and I look like crap. My hips have yet to recover from the brutal beating they took at the hands of twin-pregnancy and we won't even begin to discuss the awful "twin skin". Michael informed me yesterday that my new "style" makes me appear that I am always on my way to a softball game. It seems I've taken up the easy attire formally known as "jeans, t-shirts, and tennis shoes". I guess the fact that my hair is never down doesn't work to my advantage either. I could take the time out of my day to style my hair and press my more feminine clothes to make them fit to wear, but that would take away from my already "limited" (yes, I know it's not truly limited, but I feel that it is) time with my boys.
I'm terrified of my babies growing up. I absolutely dread having to let them loose in this world and the fact that I won't always be able to protect them from it. As I read Hayden his bedtime story, I became wistful. The story was telling children that even though they are scared of the dark, of what may be in the dark, the animals in the wilderness, that there is really nothing to fear of the night. I wish with all of my being that those scenerios were true and pausable. I wish that I could make all of the bad in this world disappear.
It makes my head reel to think that the biggest dangers in our world, the biggest threats to my precious babies, were once regarded as other mothers' precious babies. I worry about my children growing up and falling victim to one of those other former-babies turned monsters and part of me wonders if those mothers feared the same as I do, or if they feared, if they'd known, that their babies would become the world's bad dreams?
I feel that I've come to the point in life where you stop seeing things and people as you feel they should be and begin seeing them for what and who they are truly are. In the grand scheme of things, I'm a new mother, not to mention just emerging from teenage years. I've been an "adult" just barely longer than I've been a mother and I'll be the first to admit I've much to learn about life.
I wonder if I am too young to really grasp the world and my surroundings in the way that others do, or if I'll always see them differently. Will my views and opinions on things soften and change as I age? Or will I always be stubborn and headstrong? I wonder if my self-assurance isn't fading with my youth or if maybe my new found fears and insecurities are merely the result of my wisening up.
It seems my head was a bit full this evening. For now, I'll leave the thought process alone and simply say good night.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Bandwagon
I just read a post by Susan about not having it all together. It was written because friends of her's had recently written about not having it all together. Tonight, I'm jumping on the bandwagon, and I'm writing about not having it all together, but...
It's going to be different.
Why?
Because I could have it all together.
I'm hiding. I'm hiding from my responsibilities because I'm afraid at failing. If I don't try, I can't fail. I scrape by. I do just enough. My excuse? I'm tired.
Of course I'm tired! I have three children under the age of three. They are boys... and they are all boy.
Yes, the twins are only seven months old. That may seem like an innocent enough age, but you have no idea. They are creative. They are sneaky. They are mean! They pinch and poke and hit one another. They steal each other's paci and toys. When Hayden makes too much noise, Cooper laughs hysterically and Lucas cries like he just saw the Devil himself.
Lucas is... sensitive. He startles easily and is typically the first to cry. He wakes early and takes his time in falling asleep. He can roll over, but he chooses not to; he's lazy. He loathes his excersaucer and his jumperoo. He prefers to sit on the floor and play with his toys. When he falls over, by choice or by accident, he expects me to immediately come to his rescue and help him back up. He bites during nursing, and when I say "No!" he rolls his bottom lip out and breaks my heart with the pout, which always precedes the saddest cry you've ever heard. His smile will warm your heart and he very forceful about giving "hugs" and sloppy kisses. He is my Lucas.
Cooper is mischief. Plain and simple. He laughs at everything. He rolls and scoots and finds his way around. I've caught him behind the entertainment center chewing on wires. His latest "game" is crawling to the fire place and playing with the screen (it's the furthest he's gotten before Hayden says, "No Brother! Yuck!"). He steals his brother's paci, even if he has his own. He must grab at whatever you have: drink, food, phone, computer, paper, pen, EVERYTHING! He has the cutest little crooked grin and an ear-piercing cry. He is my Cooper.
Hayden has an aversion to the word "no". He makes as much noise as possible, at all times of the day. He hates to go to sleep, for fear that he will miss something important. He loves his brothers so very much and showers them with affection. He doesn't realize that the twins are not as big as he is, nor as durable, and he is often playing too rough with them (or just trying to hit, kick, or sit on them). He loves to share his food with them, even if it is a CheezeIt that I end up digging out Cooper's throat. He likes to say "Mommy" over and over and over and over until I want to scream, at which point he smiles and says, "Luss you." He is the sweetest, smartest, funniest little boy I've ever known. He is my Hayden.
They are amazing and perfect, but they never stop. I am always tending to one of them, and on the rare occasion that I'm not, there is a mess to clean up or laundry to do. My job is never-ending.
Most days, I am lucky to get a hug and a kiss from Michael in between all of the "child tending" that goes on of an evening. I rarely get a "thank you" unless it's from Hayden who knows Mommy likes manners.
BUT... that's changing. Since I broke my foot, housework isn't easy, and Michael has gladly taken up the slack. This is the biggest and best "thank you" he could give me. Tonight, I made mention to how great I think it is that someone voluntarily fed our twins their solids (no easy feat as they like to make it as difficult as possible) when they didn't have to. Michael replied that it's even more impressive when they are your kids. He then told me that everything I do for all of our kids, every single day, is amazing. It brings tears to my eyes just to type it.
Even if the "thanks" are few and far between, they may my job worth it. They make me want to get it all together, and to keep it all together.
I have a mountain of laundry to fold, and a sink full of dishes to wash, and three little boys who require my attention... so I'll get it all done, and I'll even try to keep a smile on my face while I do it.
I'll smile, because I'm not alone in this journey, and thankfully, Susan reminded me of that :)
It's going to be different.
Why?
Because I could have it all together.
I'm hiding. I'm hiding from my responsibilities because I'm afraid at failing. If I don't try, I can't fail. I scrape by. I do just enough. My excuse? I'm tired.
Of course I'm tired! I have three children under the age of three. They are boys... and they are all boy.
Yes, the twins are only seven months old. That may seem like an innocent enough age, but you have no idea. They are creative. They are sneaky. They are mean! They pinch and poke and hit one another. They steal each other's paci and toys. When Hayden makes too much noise, Cooper laughs hysterically and Lucas cries like he just saw the Devil himself.
Lucas is... sensitive. He startles easily and is typically the first to cry. He wakes early and takes his time in falling asleep. He can roll over, but he chooses not to; he's lazy. He loathes his excersaucer and his jumperoo. He prefers to sit on the floor and play with his toys. When he falls over, by choice or by accident, he expects me to immediately come to his rescue and help him back up. He bites during nursing, and when I say "No!" he rolls his bottom lip out and breaks my heart with the pout, which always precedes the saddest cry you've ever heard. His smile will warm your heart and he very forceful about giving "hugs" and sloppy kisses. He is my Lucas.
Cooper is mischief. Plain and simple. He laughs at everything. He rolls and scoots and finds his way around. I've caught him behind the entertainment center chewing on wires. His latest "game" is crawling to the fire place and playing with the screen (it's the furthest he's gotten before Hayden says, "No Brother! Yuck!"). He steals his brother's paci, even if he has his own. He must grab at whatever you have: drink, food, phone, computer, paper, pen, EVERYTHING! He has the cutest little crooked grin and an ear-piercing cry. He is my Cooper.
Hayden has an aversion to the word "no". He makes as much noise as possible, at all times of the day. He hates to go to sleep, for fear that he will miss something important. He loves his brothers so very much and showers them with affection. He doesn't realize that the twins are not as big as he is, nor as durable, and he is often playing too rough with them (or just trying to hit, kick, or sit on them). He loves to share his food with them, even if it is a CheezeIt that I end up digging out Cooper's throat. He likes to say "Mommy" over and over and over and over until I want to scream, at which point he smiles and says, "Luss you." He is the sweetest, smartest, funniest little boy I've ever known. He is my Hayden.
They are amazing and perfect, but they never stop. I am always tending to one of them, and on the rare occasion that I'm not, there is a mess to clean up or laundry to do. My job is never-ending.
Most days, I am lucky to get a hug and a kiss from Michael in between all of the "child tending" that goes on of an evening. I rarely get a "thank you" unless it's from Hayden who knows Mommy likes manners.
BUT... that's changing. Since I broke my foot, housework isn't easy, and Michael has gladly taken up the slack. This is the biggest and best "thank you" he could give me. Tonight, I made mention to how great I think it is that someone voluntarily fed our twins their solids (no easy feat as they like to make it as difficult as possible) when they didn't have to. Michael replied that it's even more impressive when they are your kids. He then told me that everything I do for all of our kids, every single day, is amazing. It brings tears to my eyes just to type it.
Even if the "thanks" are few and far between, they may my job worth it. They make me want to get it all together, and to keep it all together.
I have a mountain of laundry to fold, and a sink full of dishes to wash, and three little boys who require my attention... so I'll get it all done, and I'll even try to keep a smile on my face while I do it.
I'll smile, because I'm not alone in this journey, and thankfully, Susan reminded me of that :)
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Heartbreak
For nearly a year and a half, Michael and I have been shopping for our first home. In the beginning, we didn't have the credit needed, and really had no way of truly establishing it. Thankfully, the bank gave us an out and told us what to do. For one year, we simply had to pay our bills on time and have the companies issue a "letter of credit". Easy enough. A year came and went, and the letters were issued.
Fast-forward to February of 2009. Letters issued and in hand, we went back to the bank, met the lendor, and got the ball rolling. I quit my job in November because of being pregnant with the twins, so we are a one-income family. Michael had only been with his job for 1 year 6 months when we applied. They waited until nearly June and then insisted he be employed for 2 years before approving us. Even though we had been looking at houses for months,again, we waited. August arrives and the lendor calls to say we can now begin looking house again, So we do.
We have seen countless houses, all of them lacking in one area or another. Finally, last week, we sat down and revised out list of "must-haves" and brought it down to the bare essentials. Still, only one house really looked promising.
Tonight we went and saw the house. It was excellent. It had it all. I was in love the moment I walked through the door. My MIL and FIL both met us there to see the house as well, and both were in agreement that it was just what we needed. Not only did it have all we need, it had all we want. Excellent.
We told Stacey (our realtor, and a woman of much patience... she needs it with us as clients :)) that we were ready to move forward. We set a time to go in and sign the contract tomorrow. We were elated!
As we pulled out of the drive, the seller arrived and asked, "Is the buyer here?" We replied that we were just looking but were hoping to be the buyers. She then tells us, it's already under contract.
I immediately phoned Stacey, who then phoned the listing agent who confirmed those horrible words, "Someone else already signed a contract on it."
I couldn't help but cry as soon as she told me. My heart broke. I looked in the rearview mirror at my beautiful children and I sobbed.
This house, the one we're tirelessly searching for, it isn't for us. It's for our children. Tonight, we thought our prayers had been answered and within minutes it was all swept out from beneath us.
I'm praying that a miracle house just happens into our laps, because our lease is up in 7 weeks and we have to do something. Please pray with us.
Fast-forward to February of 2009. Letters issued and in hand, we went back to the bank, met the lendor, and got the ball rolling. I quit my job in November because of being pregnant with the twins, so we are a one-income family. Michael had only been with his job for 1 year 6 months when we applied. They waited until nearly June and then insisted he be employed for 2 years before approving us. Even though we had been looking at houses for months,again, we waited. August arrives and the lendor calls to say we can now begin looking house again, So we do.
We have seen countless houses, all of them lacking in one area or another. Finally, last week, we sat down and revised out list of "must-haves" and brought it down to the bare essentials. Still, only one house really looked promising.
Tonight we went and saw the house. It was excellent. It had it all. I was in love the moment I walked through the door. My MIL and FIL both met us there to see the house as well, and both were in agreement that it was just what we needed. Not only did it have all we need, it had all we want. Excellent.
We told Stacey (our realtor, and a woman of much patience... she needs it with us as clients :)) that we were ready to move forward. We set a time to go in and sign the contract tomorrow. We were elated!
As we pulled out of the drive, the seller arrived and asked, "Is the buyer here?" We replied that we were just looking but were hoping to be the buyers. She then tells us, it's already under contract.
I immediately phoned Stacey, who then phoned the listing agent who confirmed those horrible words, "Someone else already signed a contract on it."
I couldn't help but cry as soon as she told me. My heart broke. I looked in the rearview mirror at my beautiful children and I sobbed.
This house, the one we're tirelessly searching for, it isn't for us. It's for our children. Tonight, we thought our prayers had been answered and within minutes it was all swept out from beneath us.
I'm praying that a miracle house just happens into our laps, because our lease is up in 7 weeks and we have to do something. Please pray with us.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
In-Laws
Many people are unfortunate in that they don't get along with their in-laws. I am not one of those people.
Michael's family is incredible. His mother is always willing to help us out with watching the boys if we need to be somewhere and can't take the kids, or if we simply want a night to ourselves. She's even braved a trip to Kentucky with the boys and I just so my family could meet the twins.
His father is equally wonderful and always willing to help us in any way that he can. He and his wife, Debra, showed their generosity in extremes today. We went over for dinner and were greeted with 6 boxes of diapers (4 for the twins, 2 for Hayden), 84 jars of baby food, 2 boxes of oatmeal, 2 packs of wipes, and a stash of other goodies. When we asked them why they did this, they responded, "Because we can."
I'm very blessed to have such wonderful in-laws. Good thing Michael has superb in-laws too ;).
Yes, you did see that I said diapers for the twin. Yes, I did post recently that we had switched to cloth. I love my cloth diapers. They are awesome, they don't leak, they are cute, and they are cheap. However, they aren't so cheap as to be free. I'm not one to turn my nose up at a generous gift, so we will use the gift diapers and I will just be thankful that I have a little less laundry to wash while we do :).
Michael's family is incredible. His mother is always willing to help us out with watching the boys if we need to be somewhere and can't take the kids, or if we simply want a night to ourselves. She's even braved a trip to Kentucky with the boys and I just so my family could meet the twins.
His father is equally wonderful and always willing to help us in any way that he can. He and his wife, Debra, showed their generosity in extremes today. We went over for dinner and were greeted with 6 boxes of diapers (4 for the twins, 2 for Hayden), 84 jars of baby food, 2 boxes of oatmeal, 2 packs of wipes, and a stash of other goodies. When we asked them why they did this, they responded, "Because we can."
I'm very blessed to have such wonderful in-laws. Good thing Michael has superb in-laws too ;).
Yes, you did see that I said diapers for the twin. Yes, I did post recently that we had switched to cloth. I love my cloth diapers. They are awesome, they don't leak, they are cute, and they are cheap. However, they aren't so cheap as to be free. I'm not one to turn my nose up at a generous gift, so we will use the gift diapers and I will just be thankful that I have a little less laundry to wash while we do :).
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Black & Blue & Broken
Yesterday evening, a lady came by to pick up some things we were giving away. When she walked in, my living room was a bit trashed. We had a blanket spread out with toys everywhere. Hayden was playing with his toys in there and the twins were in their exersaucer and jumperoo. As soon as she looked in there, she asked, "Oh! Do you run a daycare?" Hmph! NO! They're mine!
After that fun, I was helping her carry two big boxes of pots and pans down to her car. Stupid me missed the last couple of steps and had a nice fall. The box hit my leg leaving a nice cut and large bruise. It also struck me under the chin which left a small cut, big bruise, and threw my head back giving me a, now, stiff neck. My shoulder came down on the railing leaving it bruised in an area that is about 6 inches wide and 3 inches long. My head hit the corner of the post, which left me seeing stars and with an awful head ache.
I also cut my ankle. Now, as I said, I hit my head, and I don't remember the specifics of what my body did when I fell. My ankle didn't hurt after I fell, so I didn't think anything of it until I bent down later in the evening and heard a loud "pop". After that, I could barely walk and my ankle swelled to the size of a softball. We went and had xrays done this morning and found that the foot is fractured right below my ankle. I've also pulled every ligament and tendon in my ankle.
Can I just say that I hurt? A lot?
I like to do things the right way. :)
After that fun, I was helping her carry two big boxes of pots and pans down to her car. Stupid me missed the last couple of steps and had a nice fall. The box hit my leg leaving a nice cut and large bruise. It also struck me under the chin which left a small cut, big bruise, and threw my head back giving me a, now, stiff neck. My shoulder came down on the railing leaving it bruised in an area that is about 6 inches wide and 3 inches long. My head hit the corner of the post, which left me seeing stars and with an awful head ache.
I also cut my ankle. Now, as I said, I hit my head, and I don't remember the specifics of what my body did when I fell. My ankle didn't hurt after I fell, so I didn't think anything of it until I bent down later in the evening and heard a loud "pop". After that, I could barely walk and my ankle swelled to the size of a softball. We went and had xrays done this morning and found that the foot is fractured right below my ankle. I've also pulled every ligament and tendon in my ankle.
Can I just say that I hurt? A lot?
I like to do things the right way. :)
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
They love me...
Really. They do.
Hayden has gotten into this cute little habit of saying "Mommy" about 15 times until I am annoyed... finally, after the 15th "What?" He touches my face, smiles, and says, "Luss you." He also comes up to me and randomly asks for "Big hugs!" or just wants to snuggle. He loves sitting in my lap under a blanket, and I have to say, I love it, too.
He melts me.
Cooper and Lucas flash me the biggest smiles when they see me in the morning. They start "talking" and telling me all about their nights. When I pick them up in the mornings, or during the day when they've been fussing, they just give me the biggest little hugs (oxymoron, I know). When they nurse, they reach up and play with my face, and for the past 2 nights, Cooper has slept 12 hours. Last night, even Lucas joined in.
They melt me.
The most amazing thing about all three of my boys, is that when they see their brothers, they all smile. Knowing that they are all so young, yet have already developed this bond amazes me. The love they have for each is more precious than anything I've ever seen.
I really love being a mom. There's nothing like it.
Hayden has gotten into this cute little habit of saying "Mommy" about 15 times until I am annoyed... finally, after the 15th "What?" He touches my face, smiles, and says, "Luss you." He also comes up to me and randomly asks for "Big hugs!" or just wants to snuggle. He loves sitting in my lap under a blanket, and I have to say, I love it, too.
He melts me.
Cooper and Lucas flash me the biggest smiles when they see me in the morning. They start "talking" and telling me all about their nights. When I pick them up in the mornings, or during the day when they've been fussing, they just give me the biggest little hugs (oxymoron, I know). When they nurse, they reach up and play with my face, and for the past 2 nights, Cooper has slept 12 hours. Last night, even Lucas joined in.
They melt me.
The most amazing thing about all three of my boys, is that when they see their brothers, they all smile. Knowing that they are all so young, yet have already developed this bond amazes me. The love they have for each is more precious than anything I've ever seen.
I really love being a mom. There's nothing like it.
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