Because There Were 5 Little Blessings

It's a rainy Wednesday here in these parts. I love the rain. A non-stop pitter patter. It's so soothing and refreshing, and makes me feel so cozy and comfy in my home.

Speaking of my home, I finally checked something off of my (alway-growing-never-finished) to-do list that has been on there for months! My babies blessing pictures are finally hung in my stairway. We've lived here for over a year and a half, and it is finally done. Hooray!

*I apologize for the terrible picture quality. Someday I may be a photographer. But probably not.
I had each of my babies photographed in their blessing outfits when they were a mere 6 weeks old. Only 6 weeks. Tiny, sweet-smelling little babies. After I (okay, not I, Andy did the actual hanging.... I did the begging :) hung them up, I sat and stared at each picture. I remembered each time with each baby, warm and snug and safe in my arms. I remember bathing, feeding, dressing, and rocking each one. I felt a bit of a tug and an ache in my heart; a warmth and feeling of indescribable love for each one of those tiny, precious bodies.

I wish I could physically pull them out of those photographs every once in awhile, just for an afternoon of gazing upon their tiny features and hugging them close, wrapped up in my arms. I guess it's a good thing that I can't actually do that.

I don't think I'd ever be able to put them back.