Traces

When I look around our home, I see traces of four little boys who fill our lives with so much joy.

Traces of happiness.

Traces of things they love.

Traces of learning.

Traces of forgetting where to put your coat and shoes.

Traces of having fun.

Traces of being little.

Sometimes the traces seem overwhelming and like a never ending job to keep things organized and clean, but more than anything I want to enjoy these boys and our home while they are little.

I know there will come a day when I will miss the mitt on my kitchen counter, a bag of crayons, and toys on the floor.  These boys mean the world to me.