The sweet season.

Yesterday on the drive to school, Calvin — delighted by the gorgeous sunrise — said "I wish I was the sun so I could paint the sky like that!"

This morning while Audra was between us in bed, she grabbed the edge of our duvet cover with both hands and covered her face — only removing it when one of us said "peekaboo!" She repeated it over and over again, grinning from ear to ear.

My heart swelled at both of these moments. And these are just two in about a million lately.

Calvin calls Nate Big Lion right now. And sometimes calls me Mama Lion. He'll often call for one of us from his bed, quietly and so sweetly: "Big Lion... Big Lion? Big Lion, I need you. Big Lion, where are you?" He's Little Lion, of course.

The other day, Audra kept putting her open, slobbery mouth on me — my cheek, my shoulder, whatever she could reach. She would leave it there for a few seconds, go "mmmmmmm," and then pull her head back quickly. It took a few minutes before Nate and I realized she was giving us kisses, mimicking the "mmmwah!" sounds we make when kissing her delicious baby cheeks.

Calvin still adores Audra, and he is always the first to come to her rescue. Usually with a "Sweeeetie. Oh, sweetie. Oh, punkydoodle. Little sweetie! It's okay, Audra, big brother's here!"

Last night after baths, we let Cal watch an episode of Super Why on my Kindle. As he sat in the hallway singing along with the theme song, a naked post-bath Audra crawled up next to him, sat down, and started bopping her head and waving her arms to the music.

We're in such a sweet season with our children right now.

Despite the expected ups and downs of parenting a three-year-old, Calvin gets more charming, more articulate, and more entertaining every day. His little mind is beginning to mature and it's obvious his understanding of the world and his place in it is growing. It's incredible to watch him right now, both as he plays independently and interacts with his little friends. His imagination has definitely taken off in recent months — he loves to build tracks for his cars, make up songs, read, and play dress up. Although content to play by himself for short stretches, he is enamored of his friends Jaxon, Allie, Jackson, Matthew, and Ada and often talks about them and what they like/do/have. He's a social butterfly at heart, just like his daddy. I am so proud of my little boy's spunk, wit, compassion, generosity, and bravery. He is incredibly strong-willed, but also tenderhearted and sensitive to the feelings of those around him.

Audra is in my favorite baby stage. I forgot how much I love 9-12 months. She is active, engaging, and absolutely delightful. Her serious exterior has (finally) given way to expose a happy, smiley, and often quite silly little girl. While generally independent, she is happiest in our arms, and often crawls over to kneel at our feet with arms outstretched. But even when we hold her, she's still one big wiggle. Her level of excitement always directly correlates with the kickiness of her legs. She's pulling up now — the other night she cried for us around 3am, and I went in to find her bouncing in her crib with the soother playing a full lights/music show. No amount of rocking or nursing could get her back to sleep — she kept popping up to give me a kiss or offer an endearing "mamamamamama!" We're finally at a point where she enjoys reading, and she's really into babies — recently she and a little friend got into a tugging match over the one doll in their room at school. :) While her teachers always comment on how easy and laid back she is (and she really is), you never wonder where you stand with Audra. She loves you, or she doesn't. She's happy or she's not. Luckily she almost always errs on the side of love and happiness. I love my daughter's sweet spirit, content disposition, and discerning nature. She is a joy to us and everyone who meets her.

While I know every moment I have with my kids is precious, and that someday I will miss them all — even the ones that end up with me covered in poop and wanting to strangle someone — sometimes it's hard to savor them. Not every season is a sweet one.

But this one? It's the sweetest I've known.