No pictures, please.

I am sure that I will soon be flooding this blog with a ridiculous amount of pictures taken in New York but before we get to that I just want to remind myself what it was like to leave my kids...actually that part was pretty welcome, let me rephrase that...what it was like to come back to my kids;) While I wasn't crying at every baby I saw (like someone else I know), at the end of every night, no matter how exhausted or how bad my feet hurt (it got pretty ugly one night) I couldn't help but to lay in bed and wonder what my stinkers were doing. There was a very strong sense of feeling that I was not where I was needed most. Let's face it, I spend A LOT of time with the little goofballs so I wasn't feeling guilty or worried (I knew they were being spoiled rotten) I just couldn't shake the desire to take care of them. I'm not sure I am getting my point across well enough but if you are a mother, I'm sure you catch my drift:) When we finally got back to St. George I was anxious to see them. I was tired, they were too, still we stayed up too late looking at pictures of my trip, playing with their new gifts I brought them and laying in my bed...and I couldn't get myself to ask them to leave my side...so they didn't! We all three slept in my bed, even all three on my SIDE of the bed. I hardly slept at all for fear of waking up Soph who was smashed between Jackson and I but it was well worth it. I held Soph way too much today...even rocked her to sleep (while standing up holding her). It's good to be home:)