So I have a confession to make. I am not the world's perfect mom. My children don't always look like they have walked out of the pages of a magazine with clean faces, clothes and perfect hair (most of the time I am lucky if Lydia lets me brush hers). My house--gasp!--doesn't always look perfect, and I am pretty sure there are toys stuck in the weeds outside that the kids say are "certainly" put away where they are supposed to be. But even though things are not perfect, especially myself, I enjoy every moment I get to spend with these two little cuties.
We stop and smell the flowers, in our pajamas.
We don't make our beds as soon as we wake up (sorry Mother).
We generally act goofy.
We have scratches and bruises all over ourselves (especially our faces) from playing outside all day long.
We paint outside the lines,
and fall asleep on the floor after a hard day of playing.
Despite our imperfections, I would say that I have the most perfect family I could ever wish for. I would not trade one perfect imperfection for the world.