carex

o hands, one for each of my children. I still take joy in the fact that at eight and nearly seven the boys want to hold my hands when we go places.
Two hands, to hold on tight to the man of my dreams
Two hands that love to get dirty with bread, paint, glue and glitter (not all at the same time mind you)
Two hands, one to hold the book and one to turn the pages as I read the bedtime story
Two hands that love to gently stroke my children as they sleep.
Two hands that tippy tap away on the keyboard letting the words flow from brain to blog
Two hands that hold the camera capturing the moments to make the memories
But mostly my two hands help, they help my children learn to make their own way in the world