Today, I had a moment. A moment of full appreciation of all my little guy’s cuteness and quirks. He’d gotten up from his nap a little fussy, and just wanted to cuddle. He needed his mama. I was obviously glad to oblige. I was even tearing up, burying my face in his curls behind his ears, and telling Hubby how glad I was to have a little guy who loved his mama. Then just like that, the moment was over – squelched by a bit of vomit, rolling right down our sleeves and on to my pants.

Thanks a lot, kid.

Luckily, we both needed baths anyway, so I took him to my bathroom, figuring we’d just hop in the shower. As soon as I got his diaper off, he decided to make sure the aforementioned sweet moment was completely gone. He stood up straight, took a big breath, and peed right onto the bath mat.

It was gone. But thanks for making sure, kid.

But the truth is that I often look at my little humans and think about how incredible they are. I think about how EK has her daddy’s hazel eyes, with the speckles of gold. I think about how J has the ice blue eyes of my grandfather, who died while I was pregnant with J. I think about EK’s stubborn personality and wonder (batting my eyes and smiling sneakily) where she could have possibly gotten it from! I listen to J’s happy wordless jabber, probably making up stories and using his imagination already. They’re amazing. God has already given them a thousand unique qualities that I will love, struggle with, pray over and brag about. They are mine, my own. And they are wonderfully and fearfully made.