I'm awake early this morning. Way too early for not having slept well and getting to bed rather late. But as I heard the rain falling outside and I laid there awake, my mind began to turn.

All throughout my house at the moment, there are sleeping children. Nine of them to be exact. The boys are in the living room, all spread out and draped over couches. The girls are upstairs, all the beds have been pushed together to make one large pile of girls. Only tops of heads and miscellaneous hands and feet are visible. As I traveled through these places just now, my eyes filled with tears. How blessed we are to have this family. My children have cousins, cousins that I hope we can make lots of memories with. My mind flies back to my childhood when I spent summers with my cousins. What joy, what angst, what frustration, what memories we made.


Last night, we crowded around my mom's dining room table. I looked around at this "Walton" like clan of mine. Some things never change. My father and Tigger are ever the jokesters, picking on anyone within earshot. Josh is quietly funny and endearing. My mom is observant and beautiful, ready to defend the weak. Grandma seems older, somewhat sad without Grandpa. But her smile is still ever ready. Now there are new characters in our story, all of us are married now, Tigs and I have 10 children between us. So some things do change. But how blessed I am, to be able to sit back and look at these people, my family. God knows they aren't perfect. I wouldn't want them to be.

I've had quite a few of these sappy family posts this spring. I guess with Tigger returning home safely and all of the cousins making forever memories it's made me somewhat nostalgic and sentimental. I am just extremely thankful for all of them.