We're all sick.

Runny noses are not my friend. Last week, the hubby and I had a bit of a bug. We were hacking all over the place and sneezing like it was going out of style. Lucky us- the kiddos seem to be coming down with it too! There's nothing funner than cleaning out a baby's nose with those nifty aspirators. He's a fighter, the little one, and ends up screaming and crying so much through the process that 10 minutes after I've emptied out his nasal passages, he's clogged them up again. And merely wiping his nose? Fuhgeddaboutit! He reacts like I'm cutting his nose off, not drying it. Gah.

Other milestones for the week are keeping me going. He's taken to babbling and his favorite syllable is -you guessed it- "ma." I love it. Gabriel knows my name, but refuses to use it. I am also Dada, with a different stress on the verbalization. His father gets a happy, excited "Dada"; I receive the shrill, demanding "Dada." It's the "Dada" that's really saying, "Hey, lady, where's that movie you said I could watch?" Speaking of my oldest, even though he won't address me properly, he's making me glow with maternal pride at his mushy, sweet heart. His Sunday School teacher told us he hugged her non-stop throughout class! And a few days ago, when he stepped on my hand, he asked with concern, "You okay?" Then he smooched the boo-boo, just like we do for him. "All bruh-buh!" he exclaimed ("all better.") He's a keeper.

This week has been a monster. We've been busier than usual and haven't gotten out as often as we like. In turn, I've fallen under the haze of self-pity and monotony than I occasionally battle as a stay-at-home mom. Oh no! I think to myself secretly with Eli balanced on my hip while I refill Gabriel's cup of juice. I'm going to be making grilled cheese sandwiches and cleaning spit-up and putting away toys FOREVER! I know this whole deal is much bigger than that. I see other people with grown children and ponder what these little boys will be like when they can look me in the eye and talk politics. Right away, just like that, I'm not wishing away the pleas for chocolate milk and the Diaper Genie.

"Train a child in the way he should go,
and when he is old he will not turn from it."
Proverbs 22:6

It's hard to remember that I am training them up, even if at the moment it seems like all I'm training them to do is not mess with electrical outlets and to say thank-you when given something. If anything, as Gabriel edges closer to 3 and adds daily to his arsenal of vocabulary and mannerisms, I can see what he's absorbed from me, both good and bad. My deepest desire for my children is that they will love God and live for Him... So even though this merry-go-round can seem never-ending -even though the colors fade from time to time- I'll stay the course.