Little Hands

If you say that you don't like kids, I will probably cock my head to the side and look at you as if you have an eye on your forehead.  No offense, but I just don't understand it.  I understand not wanting any or feeling that parenting is just not for you...actually, more people SHOULD say that.  But I don't understand not having an appreciation for children.  Let's not forget that we were all kids at some point.  Didn't you hate those adults who acted like they had never been children?  I remember calling someone out when I was a kid.  He was rude and I said "Why do you act like you weren't a kid?  You weren't born an adult." I got into trouble for being disrespectful.  To this day, this man is an excellent friend to adults, but he just isn't a kid-person.  I tried to be as obnoxious as I could to this guy, so I without a doubt, solidified his views.

Anyway, I love kids and I am so relieved and blessed that God gave me two at a time, twice.  When I was a little girl, I used to pray for a lot of kids when I grew up.  I feared that the world would end and I wouldn't get to have a baby, so I prayed that I could at least have one before He came back to Earth.  I never cared about my wedding dress, I wanted kids.  I love them so much.  I love their little voices, the things they say, their soft skin, their innocence, their creativity and imaginations, their curiosity, and their tiny little feet and hands.  Surely if you don't like kids, you can admit that a child's tiny little hand is about the sweetest thing ever, right?  When you can place it in the center of your freezing cold hand and it totally fits and it's warm in yours, it's precious.

So about these little, precious hands.....

I love these hands, but as sweet as they are, they are just as messy and hazardous.  Little handprints wind up on the walls, the windows, the mirrors...these are all places to expect them.  But there are places that you don't expect to see them. 

When you are a mom, sometimes you show up places with little handprints on your butt, or at least I do.  A couple of weeks ago I had a powdered sugar handprint right on my booty, in my yoga pants, at the gym.  It would not come off.  I wiped it as much as I could, but eventually just shrugged my shoulders and got on with it. 

Hey, Mamas....am I the only one, or do your children like to walk up to you and smack your butts too?