Maybe it's because Maeve isn't such a baby anymore, and she might be our last (she'll most likely be our last). Or maybe it's because it's summer - and all I want to do is play, play, play (and not work, work, work). But I've totally been Peter Panning it lately, and it's awesome.
There are picnics to be had, and beds to be jumped upon. I told the laundry to "suck it" and the garden to go weed itself.
My kids are at such a sweet age (three and one), and there have been so many amazing moments lately that have melted my heart into an ooey-gooey puddle of love-filled mush.
Like the time Cole said this; "I want Maeve to sleep beside me. So when she wakes in the night, she'll know I'm there, and she won't be scared. I love Maeve so much."
Or the time we were walking back from the park and Maeve reached over to Cole and said "hand." Then they walked home like this:
And while I'm continuing this journey on the mush-train, I'll be honest with you: there is nothing I love more than being snuggle-ambushed by my kids. I love when my zombie babies eat my face:
Heart. Melting. Even. More. I love these two so very much.
I'm pretty sure there is such a thing as overdosing on love. Little pink hearts and rainbows just ooze out of your orfices and you turn into a Care Bear or something.
So as much as I'm exhausted beyond belief (because I am). And as much as I'm looking forward to weekends away with just my husband (because I am). I'm also really enjoying these little moments, while my kids are just that: little.
School years and teenage years: you can stay away a little longer, alright? I'll make time for sex-talks, and drug-talks, and don't-post-naked-pics-online-talks (!!!) later.
Right now, I'm going to go build a blanket fort and eat cereal for dinner.