Full Hands, Full Heart

When you have four little blondies that are within inches of the same height, you get many comments at the grocery store- or anywhere for that matter. Some are nice to hear, “Wow, four kids?! They are so beautiful and well behaved!” Some are not, “Tell your husband to leave you alone!” One that I hear often is “You’ve got your hands full!” And I suppose I do.

I remember when I was expecting my third, I felt like my hands were full with the two that I had. One kid on the right, one on the left, everything is under control. Then number three came, and where do I put him? On my back? On my head? And now number four- on my shoulders? Carry her on my foot somehow? We could all hold hands as we cross the parking lot towards the store, looking like one giant choo-choo train. But yes, my hands are full – and so is my heart.

I have four children to love, and who love me in return. They teach me as much, if not more, as I am trying to teach them. They make me grow when it feels like it would be easier to stay as I am. They remind me about what is most important in life. They show me how to slow down and take in the small moments even when it feels like that’s the last thing I have time for.

Sometimes I feel like I’m going to go crazy, but then there are the little moments like a good morning squeeze. A deep belly laugh. Them laughing at their own little made up jokes. The proud smile when they learned something new. A new phrase that comes out of nowhere. ('Cause I am a stronger man!) And I remember why I’m doing the crazy.