Warm my heart
As a mother of two very precious young guys, I have been so blessed everyday to see little things, wonderful little things, that make me smile, cry, and plain out warm my heart.
Charlie came in my room the other night, and, because we live with Jamie Ward, our house was anything but toasty warm. As long as I remember in my life I have always rubbed my feet on the sheets to warm them up as I fall asleep. I was doing that, and I realized that there were two little block feet doing the same thing right beside me.
WARM. MY. HEART.
In church on Wednesday night Charlie was tieing his Spiderman up with a small string of Christmas beads, and when he saw a tear on my cheek, he dropped what he was doing he jumped up on the pew and wiped his little finger across my cheek, smiled, and then returned to his Spiderman.
WARM. MY. HEART.
I usually have vague memories of late night feedings, I usually wake up and feed Brady and lay him down and fall asleep in a zombie-like state. Some nights, however, things happen that make me lay awake long after B is asleep. Last week, Brady ate and drifted asleep. As I stood over his bed and started to lay him down his chubby little fingers grabbed onto my shirt, so I laid back down and cuddled him. He reached over and started to pat my cheek. Eyes closed and all snuggled up with his blanket.
WARM. MY. HEART.
I'll admit, I am on a covert mission to utterly brainwash my boys into believing they will never need to get married, or date, and basically not grow up at all. I've been telling Charlie that I am his number one girl. The other day when my mom was leaving she said, "Charlie, are you my boy?" He usually responds quickly with, "Yes!" But for whatever reason, he looked up and said, "No, I'm Mama's boy. She's my number one gurwol."
WARM. MY. HEART.
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| They are wild and crazy, but still so sweet. |
