Tonight I rocked my screaming baby girl at bedtime and tried to sing lullabies over the sound of her cries for "chicken and chocolate milk" (her latest sleep diversion technique).
I finally gave in and read her a fourth story.
And a fifth.
And a sixth, seventh and eighth.
And then I went out into the next room and held my wiggly little boy and nursed him and stared at his sweet face until he looked up at me and smiled.
His whole face lights up when he smiles and it's impossible to feel sad when you are the recipient.
Sometimes I forget how lucky I am to have these little people.
I don't appreciate what a miracle it is that they are healthy, happy and thriving when so many children aren't.
I take for granted how sweet it is to be the one my babies want when they are sick, when they are sad, when they are scared or when they discover something new.
It's so easy to get frustrated by the piles of laundry, the lack of sleep, the scattered toys, the lack of alone time.
But I was reminded tonight how much I love being a mother, how sacred that title is and how blessed I am to belong to Lola and James.
So there it is.
Just a thought.