Holding my babies

I'll admit it. My kids are great. They do whatever they are going to do with their whole mind, body, and spirit. Which makes for some really fun (and really frustrating) times. But today as I watch them play and interact I have to stop and take notice of what a miracle they really are and secondly what a miracle their relationships with each other are.

All of them were preemies. They did not 'act' like their gestational ages- but they were all petite. Looking at them now you would never know that the NICU was their first home away from home. Several years ago it would have been a much harder/much bigger deal that they even survived. Now sometimes I take it for granted that my preemies were born in a time when medicine and love were able to help them so much- by helping maintain my pregnancies and then by giving them a helping hand when they needed it after birth.

They bug each other as brothers and sisters do. It is part of the fun after all right? But on a deeper level they love each other very much. When one is hurt or sick or sad- they are quick to comfort and quick to hug and kiss. They empathize with each other and others which is something that society is loosing all too fast.

So I can look back at their baby books and remember how impossibly tiny they were. Then look at them now growing almost visibly. Exploring, learning, challenging...

I can hold them reading stories- mindful that in a few years they will not want me to read to them or snuggle before bed.