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Sometimes it’s like living a dream…

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And not because I’m sleep deprived. Word.

It’s like living a dream because here I am next to a bundle smaller than the watermelon in my fridge. I get to nuzzle her neck and suck on her cheeks and plant little kisses all over her head.

And in the other room is a little whir of energy and curiosity and a royal pain in my assets¬†because he’s almost two and owning every second of it, but I don’t care because I’m going to love him for every second I can.

And in the other room is a growing weed of a boy who loves to laugh and run and give me kisses and calls me “mom” in the most awkward, halting way. And it leaves me speechless – his resilience, his salvation.

I never dreamed this is what life would be like. Messy and loud (noisy and lively, if you will). I yell. A lot. There are many tears and frustrations and fears abound. But, I wouldn’t trade any of it. Never.

I’m made for this. And I’m so thankful I’m here. And they’re here. Amen.


About Monica

Christ following, husband loving, children hugging foster and adoptive mama.

4 responses »

  1. Why are you always making me cry? Beautiful.

    You are definitely made for this.

  2. I love this.
    p.s. Our kids are currently all about the same ages! I’ll pray for you, you pray for me. ha!


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