My Posse.

One day, these three will be everything except little. 

They will have jobs and girlfriends, husbands and babies of their own. They will drive themselves and laugh at the thought of ever having to be buckled in. Odds are good they'll have someone else to hold their head up after a hard day. They won't color or play Ring Around The Rosy. 

So in this everyday mom madness, I am holding on to their little. I want to listen to what they are saying. "When I am seven, my name will be Heshee."  I want to sing just one more bedtime song. I want to find his first ticklish spot. That one that makes him giggle and squirm and squeal. Oh, that squeal.

As a mom, I have a constant battle between utter excitement and sheer fear for the days to come. I hold out hope that they are being held by Someone much more incredible than this fallible momma. 

Amen and amen.