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I’m in Utah County tonight watching the twins, while my brother and favorite sister-in-law are away on business. It’s almost 1 AM which is way, way past my bedtime. Yet here I sit on their bed typing while listening to Carter cough. I’ve given him medicine, but I couldn’t possibly attempt sleep until he’s resting peacefully. This doesn’t necessarily make me a good person (because after this week, I’m so clearly not one). It’s what happens when you love someone beside yourself… something I’m told I don’t do often. To you I say whatever.

I love these kids. I love them like I never thought I could love someone so short. (I’ve got height issues–get over it.) I remember driving to the hospital to see them for the first time. I’d been around kids enough to know they poop and scream way too much. I was prepared to hold the babies, and lie through my teeth about how cute they are. When in reality they’d likely look like a cross between an alien and a plucked chicken. However, I wasn’t prepared to hold them and say they were the most beautiful babies I’d ever seen, and actually mean it. And I still mean it–even today, after Hannah spit in my Diet Coke.

Family is family, and you love them even when you don’t really like them. There’s never been a moment in the past 3+ years where I didn’t like these two, and frankly I don’t ever see that happening. Unless of course, Hannah continues to spit in my Diet Coke through her teen years. At that point, we might run into a problem.