Love My Days

On days when I can stop changing diapers, preparing meals, cleaning up meals, nursing, and attempting to shower long enough to breathe, I stop.

I stop and look at my boys; I look into those crazy gray eyes; I listen to that little toddler voice "reading;" and I love my days. 

One day I'll miss the mess. I'll miss the tiredness (really?). I'll miss the snuggles. One day I'll look into those piercing gray eyes and a grown man will look back at me and I'll wonder what happened to these days. One day that little squeaky toddler voice will be deep and low and probably won't be counting fruit in an Eric Carle book.

One day I'll be glad I stopped and enjoyed these days.