Remember the pure joy and celebration that comes with the delivery of your baby? The astonishment of newborn hands and tiny toes. The contented sighs signaling a full tummy. Tears of amazement and unbridled happiness streaming down your cheeks at this precious, new creation.
Softest skin; warm, sweet breath; snuggling close in the wee hours of the morning when everyone else is still asleep.
Baby sighs; powder-fresh smells; swaddled in love; wrapped up in kisses.
Long eyelashes; perfect, rosy red lips; tiny pug noses; porcelain skin.
The wonders in my life are to be celebrated; celebrated like on the day of their births and the days immediately following.
Sometimes I forget this, though. While I'm battling in the trenches of the latest war of the siblings; the "He hit me!", and the "She started it!".
Sometimes I forget to celebrate the little things; things like my 5 year old learning to zip his own coat; things like remembering to clear the dirty plates and glasses without a reminder; things like seeing my one year old putting her books back in the bookshelf.
I'm trying to remember to praise them for the simple things; cheer them on when they do a little good; clap my hands when they learn something new.
I'm trying to catch them doing the right things, instead of the wrong...
So that a few years down the road I don't ask myself, Where did I go wrong?
In answer to the Monday Listicle...
I'd love to have more kids...
If I would have a started at a younger age...
But you can't get much more right than two boys and two girls.
List your life’s Seven Wonders.
I really can count...I know there aren't seven wonders listed...but I'm feeling a bit like a rebel.