Sometimes I like stare at one of my son's or daughter's little hands wrapped around one of my fingers. I stare at it thinking, "That's my son's/daughter's hand. That's my little baby. MY baby." I stare in amazement, so full of love, feeling so lucky - so lucky that they're all mine.
When we're out in public and people look at our stroller full of babies, giving us that look of pity as they say, "God Bless You." I say, "He already has."
When they say, "Better you than me," they couldn't be more right.
