A little about my family...

As I sit here writing this I have a two year crying because I won't carry her down the stairs. My three year old is running around probably peeing in his diaper because he can. There are days that I realize I have no idea what I am doing. Should I pick her up? Should I let him decide when he's ready, or be mean and teach him the hard way? Of course everyone in the world knows the right answer, except for me, weird.

I know mom's aren't suppose to have a favorite, but today I would say Isaiah is the winner. If we are all honest everyone else has days where they have a clear favorite, today, he is mine. He smiles, giggles, can't talk back, and always has only small poops! There is a very special quality about this little guy. When I took him to the doctor he said this is the best baby ever. I think that I agree. I know that this is short lived and very soon I will be sad that he is mad because I won't carry him down the stairs, or he will show me and not use the potty. These moments are so precious when they are this small.

On the flip side, it makes my heart smile when Eliza runs up to me and give me a hug. Or, when I get her up from her nap and she tells me all about the flowers on her wall, only she doesn't say flowers. She has the voice of a trucker, very deep for a two yearold. That only makes the way she says flowers bring tears to my eyes, because it is so funny. She is freakishly strong and I wonder what she will someday do with this talent, she can lift a full 12 pack of soda. I think that she will someday be named the worlds strongest woman. I envy the fact that at two she already has more self confidence than I do at 28. She could care less what you think, because she thinks she's great, and it's true.

Then there's my Ezekiel. He has more empathy than I thought was possible. If he sees someone crying he will tell them not to cry and that it will be alright, followed of course by the wettest kiss in history. He's smart and knows it, that's where the potty training comes in. He knows I can't make him do it. He's very tall for his age and a little awkward. People are always shocked to learn he is only three, clearly the height comes from his Dad. He runs a little funny, I think he is like a great dane puppy, eventually, he will grow into those feet and when that day comes, look out, he might be fast! He does get his fear of trying new things from me. I wonder if that is genetic or if somehow he learned that from me. We try and discourage his fear, that is why if you ever come to our house our children will be leaping from tables to couches. I want them to explore and know that they can do things.

As I wrie more and more I realize they are all great, wow, this is very theraputic! Ha!

Then there is Dan. How I have been so blessed to have him? First, I said it eight years ago and I'll say it again, he's hot. It's true. The best is that I've learned that's not even the best part. He is sensitive, caring, and pretty funny. He might think that he is funnier than me, but that is not true, at all.

He works incredibly hard for our family. I have the privalege of being able to stay home with the little ones. He is true man of God and I learn from him everyday. He is my best friend and I love just being with him.

As for me, well that will just have to wait until next time!