Baby in a Box

Still just words (I'll find the camera cords eventually).
When I was little to not so little, I always hoped that someone would leave a baby in a box on our porch. My sisters were cute and all, but they were getting a little old for my taste and I always wanted another baby in our family. I can remember daydreaming about when this baby would appear. I also sat through many a Sunday in church and envied the people who were holding babies (not the best church attender... a. I wasn't paying attention and b. I was coveting). I loved nothing more than holding a sweet baby. I LOVED my babysitting jobs that involved an infant and can still remember those jobs most clearly. I could have told you at almost any point in my life that I was going to be a mommy.
Now I have the babies and I love it. Even when William runs around a store and yells, "Oh No, bad guys!" when he see men with tattoos. Even when I have to stop five times on a one hour trip for his bathroom breaks. Even when Landry's diaper explodes all over me in the middle of the mall and covers my white shirt in the special way that only breastmilk poo can do. Even when William aggressively kisses Landry in an intentional effort to wake her. Even when everyone is crying, the phone is ringing, and the mailman is knocking. I am still the one that gets to hold a baby all day! I think we are going to have to have babies until my biological clock quites ticking because I LOVE holding babies (I'm not sure that Chad is down with this plan, but he might come around). I have one very sweet baby sleeping on my chest right now, and I just thought I should share the joy.