It truly is the little things in life. A quiet house. A sleepy child. Another sleepy child. And another. One in a bed, one on the couch, one snoring on my shoulder. I need these moments from time to time to find appreciation again. The days have been so exhausting, the nights sleepless. I’ve lost my mind on too many occassions. A lost mind and a lost temper and a lost tear or two. I want to hold him on my lap and tell him how much I love him. I want him to know he can count on me even though I often don’t believe it myself. I want them all to know these things. When I’m failing in the moments of overwhelming screams and demands and noise I need them to know it’s not them I’m mad at, really. It’s me. I’ll always be mad at myself in the end. For yelling. For grabbing an arm too tight. For having had enough before I’m even awake for the day. I love them so. I love them in a way I never knew possible. Being home all day with the crying and the asking and the not listening and having nights of not sleeping and missing meals take a toll. I hope they will remember all of the laughter and dancing and hugging. I hope they always feel my love.