Just the other day our family was growing by one child at a time. There were five of us already and we had just discovered another baby was to join us the the following winter. I told my mother in law if it was a girl we were going to name her Anna Joanna Rosanna Susanna. Mom got a funny smile on her face and said, "I dare ya!" Instead of a baby girl, we welcomed a little boy named Josiah and brought him home in a blizzard.
Where has the time gone anyway? What happened to the little ones who scattered their toys across the floor, refused to eat their dinner, and giggled upstairs in the dark of night long after they should have been asleep? Where have they gone who fought and cried over "spit upon toothbrushes," "licked feet," and who knows what else?
Josiah was the link between these three and the three who were to follow after him. Older friends warned me to enjoy the days while my children were small, that they passed all to quickly and would soon be gone, but I was in the midst of it all, exhausted and often impatient. My friends were right and I find myself every once in a while longing to go back, for just a day or two, to dragging my wagon full of children around the block, stories and prayers before bed at night, and wooden railroad tracks under and around table legs. Yes, maybe even those evenings of frustration when James was working late and they were driving me crazy and making me laugh at the same time.
Picture my Week
5 hours ago