{to the little guys}

My little boys, that’s right… Britt & Mads. I’m talking to you. There are gazillion things I absolutely love about being your Mommy & in Mads' case, your Mama. But do you want to know the truth? There is something I detest about being your mother. I hate that I do not have enough hours in my day to split between the two of you. You both are incredibly different. I cannot begin to comprehend how both of you came from me. Britton you love trouble. It is your middle name. & Maddox you can make my world shake when you cry. You, Britt have been changing. You are a few weeks shy of a 4th birthday. That’s a big deal buddy! Lately I have noticed how aware you are of the needs of your siblings. Maybe it’s because of the chaos that is associated with running with a crowd. It hurts me to see you sitting so quietly so patiently...& almost somber-like while I tend to the more demanding children. You wait for me to read that book you brought me about dinosaurs an hour earlier. You wait for me to get that snack I promised you. You wait for me to put the watermelon toothpaste (your favorite) on your toothbrush. I can tell that your little heart can see that I am stretched, & you have probably observed that whoever screams loudest wins in our house. Its not right. Its horribly backwards, but I’m trying to make it through these early years the best I know how. And so...instead of yelling or throwing yourself on the floor... you wait. Quiet & still. It makes my heart ache. I almost wish you would join the choir of fit throwers & say "IT’S MY TURN!" because it is Britton! It is your turn! Even though you’re often last, you are the first to come to me & while petting my cheek say "Mommy I just love you so much." I wish I knew what I did that was so good to deserve your love. You are a good boy Britton. You love to make me crazy with your mischief & craziness, but the expressions of love you offer those around you seem to create the perfect balance of sweet & sour. When those rare stolen moments occur, when it is just you & me, it is just that. YOU & me. I hold onto those moments. I hope you feel all my love for you. Maddox, while Britt is patient...you are his polar opposite. Waiting is not the name of your game. You subscribe to the ideology that the "squeaky wheel gets the grease." You know me too well little guy! I love you for your way of being you. You still don’t talk to me, & I still do not understand all your interpretations of baby signs. I think its because of this, & your desperate way of looking at me--as if to say--"I wish you understood mom! Help me!" that I tend to give you the graham crackers first, or let you play with the play-dough kitchen set before everyone else. I see myself just trying to help you stop crying. I probably give you the most of my day. Which is ironic, because I feel like you need even more of my day. I believe that If you & I could sit together, pretend together, read more together, or even color together that we could be on the same page. You need so much! I love that Heavenly Father entrusted you to me & Daddy so we could learn from you. You teach me so much, but I feel like there’s so much to teach you...but not enough hours of day light to do it in. I want to help you develop sounds, then words, then sentences. Each day I see you trying to talk to Britton or Tre, & you are so excited, big arm motions, great facial expressions, & yet they cannot understand you. I want to help you. You want to be held, but my hands always seem busy. You are who I think about at night while I lay in bed. How can I help him? What does he need from me? I am here for you darling! You are so loved! If I could have a wish it would be that my love would be enough for you two boys, & your siblings too of course! I don’t know if its fear of my middle children feeling lost or neglected that makes me anxious over you two boys, or just your cute little faces & your big personalities. Whatever the reason is, I want you two little boys to know that your mommy, if she could, would hold you more, kiss you more, chase you around the house with tickle fingers more. But with all those wishful mores...know this.... I COULD NOT, NOT, NOT, LOVE YOU MORE! xoxox, Mommy/Mama