It’s summer. Charlotte is out of preschool. These last two weeks I have squeezed my growing babes into the double stroller to workout. We have been to the playground and blown bubbles in the yard before going to the pool. I let her watch one more episode of “My Little Ponies” while Henry naps and I clean. (Wait, it’s “My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic” now. How could I forget?) Some days she’s curled up in bed with me and we fall asleep, tired from the sun.
Summer is so sweet. Not a day goes by that I don’t bask in amazement that this is my life. I get to wake up in the morning and be with my children. Yes, we’re hurrying out the door, but I’m not going to work. I’m with them. I’m blessed a million times over. I love my life. The warm sun and popsicles only make life better.
We’re doing less camp and taking more free time this summer. The time with them reminds me to soften my tone and remember that they’re little. Tonight we tucked her in. I leaned over and whispered, “I’m so glad I’m your mama.” Charlotte smiled, held my face close and said, “I’m so glad I’m your daughter.”