Mary's lovey

I just spent the last twenty-five minutes looking for my two-year-old's lovey, which is a soft pink receiving blanket.  Each naptime and again at bedtime, we scramble around, scouring the house for it. Not so long ago, we spent countless minutes looking for Peter's lovey, too (a small, pastel green bunny).

Paul and Beth are different in this regard.  I was the only lovey they wanted (and nursing).

They're all so different, aren't they?

Sleep time is, of course, delayed by this daily hunting ritual, and I must confess that my eyes have rolled many a time.

But soon, lovies will be packed away, in keepsake boxes.  There are few things I'll miss as much.

I'm giving thanks for my little girl today, as she snuggles up to her lovey.  And for my boys, shouting and playing in the playroom.  They're especially active on Sunday afternoons--usually, it drives me crazy.  But today, I am thankful for the sounds.

They'll only call me Mommy but a few more years.  And they'll only climb into my arms but a few more years.

Short years.  Blessed years.  I am here, today, recording and savoring.