Bear with me...

My boys are my treasure.  I was reading my lesson for YW this week which is entitled The Importance of Life which seems to have gotten the better of my emotions and so now, those of you who choose to read this are stuck with having to hear me gush about my boys (fair warning, get out while you can).   Day-to-day we do our best to raise our kids.  Some days or most, we try to just make it through and anxiously await the sounds of silence after they are tucked in for the night.  Sad but true.  While I was reading my lesson it resounded with the fact that we are each children of God and we are each special and valuable in a unique way.  I thought about my Jack who loves waking up and making up things he dreamt about as he sees them in the room.  "I dreamed bout my Winnie da Pooh chair and bout my cereal".  He hugs and kisses me, dad and Theo (especially Theo) each morning.  We argue slightly about not eating pretzels or having chocolate milk for breakfast and I am  then on to trying to convince him it is more fun to read a book or draw than watch Curious George or Blues Clues (I said I try).  Jack-a-roni (Remember my fair warning.  And don't try to pretend you don't have equally silly nicknames) loves to dance around in his underwear, play in the sink, pretend to shave with dad using a comb and shaving cream (of course), sit, yes just sit, in the back of his dads truck, collect bugs, rhyme, eat olives, wash his hands!, make up songs, and recently tell me what letter words start with.  He pulls the funniest faces and loves it when he gets us laughing.  He LOVES his brother and nothing makes me happier or more proud than when he trys to calm him down using the sweetest little baby voice and calling him "little fella" and kissing him on the head.  And although it rarely works, he trys every time.  I'm so proud when he prays, remembers the characters names in the Book of Mormon stories I tell him, goes potty by himself, eats his dinner without half of it ending up in his milk, and consistently skips 14 and 15 as he counts to 20.  I love this kid SO MUCH!  Why do I ever loose temper with him?  Why do I anxiously await nap and bed times?  And Theo.  Oh Theo-you-smell-like-pee-oh (nice mom, huh?) so far your either smiling a huge dimply grin or crying like you mean it (by this time we know you don't) but I can tell already tell that your an old soul.  I love you.  I can't wait to see what kind of kid you'll be.  And although my stories so far only include things like rolling over, holding your rattle, pooping, peeing and sleeping, I know soon I'll ramble on about the things you do and say that make me so proud and happy.  I'm crazy about these guys.  I'll spare my husband the embarrassment of going on about him, but simply say I don't fathom my life without him.  Come hell or high water he will be there.  So if you've made it this far, your now in the clear.  Without this turning into a testimony, I'll say that I' so glad to know the things I know.  I'm glad to regularly be reminded of what is real and important and ever-lasting.  I hope to give to my kids and husband even a portion of what they give to me.   OK, now I feel better.