When my boys could not possibly have been better behaved or more angelic.
Travelled to my bio-sis's home yesterday. Three hour drive, without incident. Sang songs, ate snacks, laughed at Luke.
Neither boy napped, but were genuis during the party. Delighted family and friends with their hair, their smiles, their easy-going, "yes-I-AM-precious-thank-you-very-much!" ways.
Wanted to burst with pride and love and grateful-ness. Snuggled both at bedtime, pouring secrets and giggles and words of comfort and thanks into tiny, tired ears.
Woke this morning, awkwardly wrapped around my boys - one in the crook of my arm, the other, tucked into the crook of my knees. Both forever tucked into my heart.
Feel lucky. Feel blessed. Feel....content.
Thank you, Matthew, for your spirit and your fire. For giggles and snickers and telling Mummy how much you like her hugs. For trying hard to get along, for teaching Mama again and again, what it is to discover. What it is to forgive.
Thank you, Luke, for you grins and your drive. For your voracious appetite for everything and food. For making me feel like I'm doing something right and for seeking my arms for comfort, for love.
Thank you, Mark, for trying. And for having hope.