Tonight I've been thinking about... I probably won't remember too much about the hard stuff of having small children, once they've grown older. The poop, everywhere, in diapers, out of diapers, poo on the floor, on the wall, in the crib, on me. Or the amazing number of times that the YaYa Sister has vomited after over-eating. Or the fact that I never ever seem to sleep very much anymore and I always feel exhausted.

I'll probably remember their brown feet in sandals, the way their skin smells after they've spent the day in the sun. The sweet strawberry smell of a nursing baby's breath. Little hands on my cheeks, the elusive and overwhelming kisses. The compulsive smiling of four-month-olds, the funny waddle of a year-old baby. YaYa mispronouncing everything, Kid A pronouncing everything perfectly except for poached eggs, which he still calls "proached".

You know, the good stuff.