Something about the Spring seems to make kids grow faster. As soon as Spring finally dug her heels in and decided to stay all three of my babies leveled up into new phases of life.

My last baby is stepping into toddler-hood. His vocabulary has grown exponentially. This week alone he has added several words to his Mama, Dada, Sister, Brother, and Cookie (he is obsessed with Cookie Monster) arsenal.

I watch his hefty little bottom wobble from side to side on thick sturdy legs. I smile as he maneuvers the sofa up and down without incident. Today he was brave enough to scale my bed, which is unusually high and although he went down feet first he still managed to get rug burn on the side of his head.  One of my favorite things is watching him do the tip-toe part of Gregg and Steves “Movement Song” He infectiously giggles as he brings his pudgy index finger to his lips and spits out “SHHHHH!”

Last Baby has also managed to be the sweetest baby I have ever had. Random acts of affection come spewing from him regularly. He is quick to put his head on my shoulder, wrap his arms around my neck, or find a comfy spot on me to chill out.

Lady Baby has evolved into the dreaded threenager. Today alone she had five crying fits. One of them happened to be during her yoga class. All those big emotions and no room to store them in such a tiny body. She is the most independent out of them all. Wanting to do everything herself and asking me why she can’t be like Elsa and live in her own ice castle by herself. That one is rearing and ready to go out into the world and start conquering.

I just keep rubbing the side of her soft Snow White cheeks, trying to create a touch memory that will stay with me long after she’s created her own grown up world, telling her we are stuck together until she graduates high-school.

In between her fits of rage, a sweet girl trying to hug her brothers, or attend to her many wounded dolls lying in her makeshift hospital comes out. Reminding me of how easy it is for her to show compassion even to inanimate objects.  She keeps me interested every day. I can’t wait to see the kind of woman this chick turns out to be.

I can’t wait to see the kind of woman this chick turns out to be.

OG has hit some kind of seven-year-old sweet spot. Never one for affection I find him reaching our for extra hugs.He asks to hang out with me by himself. No Dad allowed. The other day he looked at me bright eyed and said “Hey Mom we can read together, but I can read my own book while you read yours!”

My first baby can read. My first baby is a real kid.

I think seven might be my new favorite.

My rescue kid is rounding eighth grade. Thankfully the real teenager mood swings still haven’t totally taken over the house. Every once in a while he will come brooding off the bus, but mostly he is still just a sweet kid with no common sense.

Mother-hood from where I sit is marvelous.

I always wanted wild, love filled holiday dinners where we stay up late and play cards against humanity.  To achieve the dream I have to deal with my erroneous perfection ideals.  #squadgoals   #deathtoperfection

Dirt-colored fingerprint marks  are running down the frame of the bathroom closet, trailing off to the wall and bathroom door itself. I noticed them when I was in a bubble bath trying to pray.

Yes, praying in a bubble bath seems so strange even  Grammarly thought I meant playing in its correction of my word choice. I know it sounds strange. It sounded strange when I said it in my own head, but logically I know that both things bring me peace so why not combine them.

Multi-task some self-care.

Time is money kids.