My...your hands are full!

I had the pleasure of taking Eli and Dayton to the DMV today.  Eli busied himself rearranging the furniture and Dayton was screaming his head off letting me know it was time to eat.  For whatever reason I did not feel inclined to whip my boob out of my tank top to feed him at that moment.  I dug him out of his car seat and talked to him while intermittently telling Eli "no." Finally it was our turn and the lady sees that I'm in a little distress and hurries my transaction along.  Luckily I read the instructions and had my paperwork in order.  As I'm headed out the door with my screaming infant and dragging Eli behind me (he was convinced the furniture wasn't quite right yet) a woman pops up out of her chair to hold the door open for me.  I'm so happy I could cry...but then she said it..."my, my, your hands are full!"

Yes, they are.  Some days I feel like all I want to do is sit down and cry.  Other days I go through my headcount and can't believe that five children is "a lot."  It doesn't seem like much on those days.  All I can think of is that my house is positively full of people that love me unconditionally.  Yes, I do have my hands full but I also have my heart full as well.  I LOVE my big family...even on days they make me want to pull my hair out.  Why?  Because they'd love me with stress induced bald spots and certifiably crazy.

Taylor even came running up to me on the baseball field last night to give me a hug.  One of those "I'm going to stick my face in your armpit" kinds of hugs.  I was dripping sweat and pretty sure I smelled bad enough that the flies were avoiding me.  She gave me a lingering hug anyway.  I asked her "Taylor, do I stink?"  She said "yep, but it's ok...I love you anyway."