With my hectic schedule, I usually get home after the kiddos are supposed to be in bed. I say supposed to because some nights, I get home, That Man is in a fetal position, holding his head, crying, "please, make them stop." Okay, not really. But close. Lately, though, with the time change, B has been falling asleep right around 8:30. Which means, I come home to a little girl sleeping in some odd place because she dozed off waiting for her momma. I'll sit for the longest time, watching her.

Who'd have thought that watching a child sleep would be the best form of entertainment? It amazes me. She amazes me. I wonder how something so incredible, something so beautiful, came from me. I don't know why God picked me to be their mom, but wow... I am so lucky.

I watch them and I think what miracles they are. How perfectly their bodies were formed. Every little mark, every cell, carefully placed by God. How can anyone set eyes on such a perfect creation and not believe in God? They are such little miracles.

Beautiful, lovely miracles.

  I love hearing them breathe, even when they snore.




Their little bodies move. And occasionally, you see signs of their dreams, and wonder what thoughts might be going on in those amazing brains. I love being a mom.