We’ve spent the last three weeks living out of a suitcase as we attended a wedding, two births, a trip to the hospital, Christmas, and a funeral. The twins met many relatives for the first time, we enjoyed fresh Arizona oranges for almost every meal, I got to be with my mom and spend time with dear grandparents, and we got to swim outside in January (only in Las Vegas!). Aside from the inevitable holiday cousin sickness (which we unfortunately both gave and received), it was an amazing and needed holiday.

But you know what? I am so glad to be home.

Last night as Dave and I were lying in bed we realized that it’s been 7 months since we have had the house all to our family, and boy does it feel good.

Yesterday I just soaked up being a mother: kissing soft chubby baby cheeks, making homemade applesauce and licking the spoon, staring into my babies’ eyes during feeding time, reading picture books, and running my fingers through Tillie’s hair as I sang her to sleep. How I love my home, my husband, my babies, and our life—no matter how much of a circus it is right now. 

There is much to be grateful for, and much that I can attribute to nothing but the hand of God. He is real, he hears my prayers, and he's made something beautiful out of this life of mine.

Farewell to travelling, airports, and time changes. And hello to HOME.

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