I’ve spent the past four days (in a row) with eight children.
One 6 year old, two 5 year olds, two 3 year olds, one 2 year old, and two 8 month olds. They are my wonderful, beautiful family and I love them so much. It’s a funny thing about kids, they give people different reactions. Some people freak out and don’t want to get anywhere near them, some people only talk in baby voices (something that I often plead guilty to), and some people are just apathetic to the chaos that is children. I, personally, love them. I could, and have, play all day long and that’s still not enough time with them.
But having the kids here (5 live in Cali and the other 3 live in ATL) for such a short time has made me actually seriously evaluate my life. No, for all of you panicking, I am not announcing that I’m pregnant or something totally crazy. Having them here with all the joy, innocence, honesty and laughter that they bring with them, has really reminded me of one of the most overused clichés in the universe: life is short.