Hand prints on my wall....

As the sun was coming through my windows this morning I rolled over in bed and looked at my walls. The walls that I painted not too long ago. The walls that Kevin reminds me all the time about how he helped me paint them--which he did, in a way only a 3 year old can:).

I know you can't see it too well in the picture, but look close.....

There are hand prints.

Two perfect little hand prints.

I lay there in bed looking at those little hands remembering all the times I have washed hand prints of the walls, windows, and doors in my house. It all started with Ryan. Now I have 5 boys leaving hand prints all over my house. They aren't all small anymore--but they are all amazing to look at still.

These perfect little hand prints remind me of all the times I have had with my precious boys. All the times I have hugged them better when they are hurt. All the laughs we have shared. The books we have read. The games we have played. Life--my life.

No, I won't be washing those hand prints off the wall anytime soon. Kevin is my baby right now. He is growing up way too fast. He always says he is older than he really is---don't tell him he's 3, he will tell you he has had lots of birthdays and is 4, 5, 8, or 16 now. He went for a walk, by himself last night, almost all the way to the pond. Ryan ran fast to get him. Kevin had his toy shot gun in tow--he said he was going hunting. He told Ryan all about it as they came home together--my oldest and my youngest, hand in hand.