Last night I took this photo of Atticus.
Two twisty baby teeth, perched precariously on his gums by minuscule threads.
And I realized it.
Never again would I put my baby boy to bed with all of his baby teeth.
I've been a bit weepy and sentimental these days.
Ever have those moments--be it a minute, or day, or maybe even a string of days--where you are just so in love with everyone and everything in your life.
Like so in love it nearly hurts?
I've been experiencing that feeling a lot lately. Probably because I spend time thinking about time and waiting and life. A Haitian adoption will kind of do that to you.
Reading NieNie's blog will do that to you as well.
Right now, in my home, I have 3 precious children.
My 10 year old daughter loves to read, loves her pets, loves her dolls and toys. She loves to make up stories and plays. She can spend hours outside riding her bicycle or roller blading. She visibly becomes gleeful when we hunker down to read our Nancy Drew each and every night. She thinks it is fun to wash her baby sister's hair salon-style. And if you ask her one of her favorite things to do, she'll tell you to have a sleepover in Mom's room where we watch movies and bead each other's hair while Dad is away on business.
My 6 year old son asks me about a zillion questions a day. He loves Robinson Crusoe and Star Wars and drawing elaborate military plans of attack on paper. He's learning to read and last night read me two Clifford easy reading books. All. By.Himself. The cool thing is that I have the PRIVILEGE to teach him to read. Me. I covet this privilege. And I love it. He thinks he is the bomb because he can skip count by 2's and 10's. He zooms around the driveway and yard on his 2-wheeler. He rollerblades and never cries when he falls--and he falls hard-- but he'll cry at the drop of the hat if he feels wronged by a sister.
My 3 year old loves life. She loves to sing, to dance, to holler, "Ta-Da! It's Tinder-nella!" She has the most wonderfully expressive facial expression. She comprehends so much that she never misses a beat, even in our parent-big kid conversations. She loves potty humor, which we all know she did not get from me (I abhor potty humor, seriously). She has no fear of anything except airplanes flying overhead, and she can beat out the big kids in tricycle races. I spend hours each day playing house/pets/dinosaurs/little ponies, where we are each a character who greets each other, over and over and over again, in high falsetto voices, "Hi! How are you today? Come and see my house!"
And my Mister. . . well, there's a lot to say there. I truly realize how incredibly blessed I am to have him. We've faced some dreadful circumstances and kicked its ass down the block. We clawed our way (not at each other) through the trials and have demonstrated that when we took our vows and said, for better or for worse, we meant it. Tested and proven. We don't doubt it, and there is an overwhelming sense of love and security there. We can spend hours just talking and laughing and never get bored with one another. Every night when I know he is about to come home, I get excited and put on fresh lipstick and blusher. He is my best friend.
And these two little guys. Not much longer before they are home. Whether it is next week or 3 months from now, it doesn't matter, because I am their Mama and this is their HOME. Each day brings us one day closer to their homecoming. They are worth the wait.
I don't know what tomorrow holds. That thought alone lets me sink a little deeper into the bliss I'm feeling for today.
And today, I wish for you a little wonderful bliss of your own.