Tonight, I feel myself overwhelmed with love for my children. My babies. They fill my life with so much joy.
I always knew that I wanted to have kids. How many I would have varied, but I knew that I would have them. I am not a kid person, really. I don’t get down in the floor and play with them. I don’t have to hold everyone’s little babies. I would rather have a conversation with an adult than someone’s kid. I’m just not a kid person.
Until it comes to my own. There’s just something different when they’re yours. The nutty things they do aren’t annoying, but cute. Their little quirks aren’t weird, they’re endearing. Their diapers stink, but they’re bearable. When they throw up, instead of running away, you pull them to you. It’s just different. The kid with the snotty nose in the store is to be avoided at all costs, but your own little snot-nose is just, God love them, in need of a Kleenex and a cuddle.
It’s just different when they’re your own flesh and blood. My days begin and end with my little munchkins, and I can’t imagine my life without them. I don’t think of the day when they will be grown and gone from my home, because I can’t bear it. To me, the sun rises and sets for my babies.
Kyra keeps me laughing. The things she does and says are hillarious. I joke to people that they will have a much better time at my home if they just realize and accept the fact that Kyra is crazy. Half the things she says are ridiculous and crazy and nuts and creative and touching and inspiring. Her middle name is Joy, and we could not have picked a better name for her.
Elijah is my darling little boy. He is sweet and loving. He will come to me several times a day, reach his chubby little arms up to me, and all he wants is a cuddle. I pick him up, and he lays his head against my shoulder. I give him a hug and a smooch, and he’s on his way. He cuddles with me at night. I know people say it’s bad to let them sleep with you, but I find no sweeter moments than all four of us in the bed. Kyra cuddles up to her Daddy, and Elijah cuddles up to me. Chris and I will touch fingertips accross our pillows, and, in that moment, I have found all the joy that life could possibly have to offer. I am a blessed woman. I count myself lucky to be called a wife and a mother. I love my family, and I love my babies. They are my heart. My whole life. They are my happiness. And, tonight, my heart is full.