Making a memory

I held my little girl a little longer and a little tighter tonight as I rubbed her back as she drifted off to sleep. I put her to bed ten minutes earlier and swore that I wasnt going back in her room, part of her new bedtime training (yes, training my 2 1/2 year old that tries to stay up until midnight night after night). I tried to ignore the "Mommy, Mommy, Mommy..." I heard coming from behind the closed door of her room. I buckled. I found myself sitting in her tiny toddler bed with her sweet face pressed against my cheek and her arms around my neck. Im so in love with a tiny 2 1/2 year old girl. I cant help it, I want to hold onto these moments, when I am still allowed to rub her back and rock her to sleep. My heart hurts knowing that she is growing up, that they are growing up so fast, changing from month to month in pictures and becoming more independent. The thought of my little girl one day not wanting her Mommy to hold her breaks my heart. I breathe her in, the smell of her hair, the softness of her cheek, her warm little body in my arms. I try to freeze this moment in my memory. This moment and many others.

Juliana is outspoken (for a 2 year old), animated, and not necessarily even tempered. Shes tiny and cuddly, lover of her 2 "cankets" and toter of all things stuffed and furry (right now her sheep and her kitten that she weaseled out of her daddy). Shes bossy and gets into quite a bit of trouble on a daily basis. She feeds whole loaves of bread to the dogs, dumps out boxes of cereal, pours shampoo in the cats dish, uses sharpie markers to decorate the house, and escapes from the house during "naptime" only to ring the doorbell when ready to come back inside. She still isnt a fan of sleeping, can throw one pretty mean fit, and loves her chocolate milk. She loves her preschool, names the little ones in her class she plays with everyday and loves her teacher, "Miss Sherie."

And my son, my firstborn is now 3 1/2. He has already lost his baby curls and some of the baby softness. He talks a mile a minute, is quite often a superhero of some sorts, and has quite the vivid imagination. He brings us blankets and towels to tie around his shoulders and both kids run around saving the world. I am so proud of him. I love it when he tries to use big words "I am so frus-er-ated right now!" and my heart is heavy when he comes home sad because the bigger boys at school told him he couldnt play with them. He can proudly write his name and wield a sword. He adores his new school and his teachers are his best friends. He makes us stop at the end of the hall and proudly walks to class by his self with his head held high. He is sensitive and insanely sweet, the first one to cry, and protector of his little sister. He changed my life 3 1/2 years ago, for the better.

I hope they will realize one day how much they are loved and adored, how special they are to us and how thankful we are that they are in our lives.