It takes me twice as long to do anything these days.

“Up, mama!”
“Help, mama!”
“Cuddle, mama!”

Some days I’m touched out and flat-out worn out before breakfast is even on the table.

And I know it’s okay for me to admit that. Not every day on this side of heaven is going to be a good one.

But I also know without a shadow of a doubt that these are the very best days of my life.

And one day I’m going to wake up rested, and drink hot coffee that isn’t microwaved, and vacuum the floors without interruption, and it might just break my heart.

So here’s to the days of chaos and kisses and toys covering the living room floor.

Here’s to the days of dry shampoo and messy buns and oversized t-shirts that more than likely have food on them.

Here’s to the days of pep talks and prayers and yes, maybe even a few tears.

Here’s to the days I know I’ll miss the most when they’re gone.

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