Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Crying over spilled milk

Today Amos had the biggest meltdown over spilled milk. Ok, it wasn't spilled, I dumped it out, but it was old and for his own good. Promise. Anyway, he was so very sad, but I found myself feeling happy. How lucky we are that his biggest problem is some spilled milk.  He threw a fit to end all fits, and in the end only this little face made him stop crying:

He thought the baby food on her head was so funny.  He kept saying, "hat! hat!" and then laughing.  How lucky those two are to have each other.  How lucky I am to have both of them.

I've been thinking a lot about seasons of life lately.  It came up in Relief Society on Sunday when someone mentioned that they were in the genealogy season of their life, and then again when I read about it on C Jane's blog, here.  I may want to be in the "have a perfect house" season of life, but I am slowly coming to terms with the "babies are everywhere and into everything" season I am really in.  Its not so bad.  Really, its pretty great.  Even if Amos just pulled my pottery barn basket, with the carefully written chalkboard label, off of the shelf so Maggie could sit in it.


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