Two weeks of being a mama to three kids. Wowzers!

I’m still figuring out what my favorite parts are. {The sleep deprivation is not one of them.}

But in between diaper changes, separating wrestling boys, and burping our baby girl, I have a head full of much more than just five minutes of favorites. But most of the time I can only snag five minutes here and there to just write. And I don’t have time to worry if  it’s just right or not.

Perfect for Fridays. Want to join me?

1. Write for only five minutes. Don’t edit. Don’t over think. Don’t stifle your creativity.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. Go leave some comment love for the five minuter
who linked up before you.

It’s invigorating; give it a try and see.

And in celebration of our family of five this week I’m giving away five of my favorite favorites from DaySpring’s Life to the Full Collection. Appropriate, no? With the new addition to our own Life Collection! (Michelle won the I Am Loved art from last week).

This week the scrumptious Life to the Full Pitcher and Platter are up for grabs. Oh how I love them both! And five of you who link up will too!

OK, are you ready? Give me your best five minutes for the prompt:

A few of my favorite things….


GO

When I rock in the yellow chair that’s traveled with us from Michigan and Micah to Virginia and Zoe, I can hear them breathing – the three children I get to call my own. The snuffles in the dark as they exhale the day drift along with the music to where I sit. To where I sit with eyes so heavy and a heart so full. My feet push back and forth and the chair cradles me as I cradle her and I count blessings.

I count the abandoned ninja sword in the hallway and the red underoos that missed the laundry hamper by several feet. I count the bubble bath water that someone forgot to empty and the thick winter coat that Pete’s draped over a kitchen chair. I count the six stuffed dogs that surround Micah as he sleeps and the tiny velveteen rabbit that Jackson cradles.

I count the baby that counts on me.

I count the man that wakes groggy when I call on him and still every time gets up with kisses for his daughter and love at every midnight and 2am diaper change. I count years and hours we’ve been together.  I count the lines in my face and the gray hairs on his head. I count where we’ve been and where we’re going because I know I can always count on him. No matter the zip code, this is home. These people. These faces and noises and voices and breaths in the dark.

These are my favorite things. And I never get tired of counting them.

STOP

OK, your turn – show me what you’ve got.
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