These days, Gray is two minutes of still snuggles and morning breath kisses at 6:45am and then constant movement and super heroes, super heroes, super heroes. Gray is letters and shapes discovered and a world unfolding before his eyes. He is all love and enthusiasm, spilling over, filling up, again and again until the day is full and he and I are both exhausted. Gray is his sister's court jester and his daddy’s biggest fan. He is school and gym class and blooming independence. He is light and joy and good.
These days, Josie is laughter. She is determined to move and on the cusp of adventure. Josie is always close, always pulling hair, always happy for attention. She is coy flirts and hands made of velvet. Josie is jealous for her daddy’s attention and in love with him more than anything. She is milk and only milk, straight from the source; no bottles or food will please her. Josie is sucking on toes and babyhood slipping away before my eyes. She is grace in my heart and in our home.
These days, Josh is present and kind and patient. He is my relief when he walks in from work. He is kisses for his girl and wrestles upon wrestles for his boy. Josh is tired smiles and intertwined toes as we drift to sleep. He is steadiness when I’m flailing and the shared look of this is really our life? Josh is 6am with the babies, without complaint and with coffee to meet me when I wake. Josh is better than I deserve.
These days, I am full and imperfect. Imperfectly full. I am insanely in love with my family and exhausted to my very core. I am lingering pregnancy weight and stress eating during nap time and refusal to acknowledge the correlation. I am thankful, so thankful. I am a shorter fuse than I want and I am hope that tomorrow is a new day to try again. I am fingers running through toddler hair, milk poured out, one thousand kisses. I am surprised that everyone wants dinner, every night. I am home and they are mine.