Losing it...in a good way

As a joke, I always tell people that I get dumber as a mom as the years go by.

My days are spent reading children's books and I enjoy the mindlessness of coloring.

Finding the perfect play dough recipe is not something I ever thought I'd spend time on, 

though dressing dolls or building with blocks were never on that list either.

My intellectual abilities may not be increasing, that much I can say.

 BUT, in parenting, I have never learned so much spiritually.

I've never sought God so much, relied on God so much, and been dependent on God 

like I have in parenting.

I've been learning a lot lately too.

 Nothing I haven't heard before, but it's penetrating a different part of my heart.

Like 'Am I loving my kids like God loves me?'

Am I showing them kindness, grace, long-suffering, and gentleness?

Yeesh! 

I've got a long way to go, such a long way to go.

 And every day, I've been beginning my prayer life a little different.

Not just "Jesus, help me today",

but "God, help me to walk in the Spirit".

 So, maybe I'm losing it, by "it" I mean my I.Q., but I think I'm learning to lose myself.

These little ones are teaching me to let go of my selfishness

even though I try so hard to hang onto it.

I can't walk in the Spirit and be selfish at the same time.

Then losing it, is definitely a good thing.

Ezra Leif

I feel like this is a story I tear up at just when I think about it.

It's a story that began almost two years ago.

A miscarriage, a molar pregnancy, and probably almost a hundred doctor appointments in between and after, we got pregnant with Ezra.

A healthy pregnancy is something I will never take for granted.

The yearning and desire that goes along with that is something

that can't be expressed in words.

All of Ezra's pregnancy, I was so thankful but fearful.

Leary about all of the what if's that could possibly happen because they

had in the past. I took each day as it came.

Some were so much harder emotionally than others.

And then, Friday morning, reality really hit.

I woke up at 5 a.m. with a strong contraction, and woke Mike 

right away.

I called my mom, and tried to get dressed for nearly thirty minutes.

We got to the hospital at 6, and Ezra was born at 7:30.

They laid him on me, and I felt frozen in time.

I was shocked, stunned, and so in love.

I will never, in all my life forget that feeling.

That relief.

That reality.

That answered prayer.

Laying on me,

breathing,

thriving,

and so beautiful.

There is nothing that compares to the birth of a child.

My opinion of course, I guess these little people do a number on me.

My baby is two days old.

I'm in awe,

a little shock,

and emotional.

  

This journey, the one we've been on for what seems like so long,

it's really begun.

Really begun.

My hormonal perspective

I can't decide if I haven't felt inspiration lately 

or if its consumed me.

My energy level isn't what it normally is, 

and with a baby due in ten days, 

I'm sure it's normal.

We've had more mother-daughter and mother-son talks 

in the last month than I think we've had the whole year. 

My body is so tired, 

so sore and hurting,

 but I'm savoring the moments at hand.

Our days in the house seem so long, 

the fighting seems incessant,

tattling keeps coming though I ignore it,

Micah still jumps off everything imaginable,

and Eden thinks she's a parent.

Micah throws temper tantrums and seems to cry at everything, 

and Eden has a mouth on her that flings me into the future by ten years.

But, I'm in love.

I'm in love with Micah and will never tire of drying his tears.

And I'm in love with Eden and can't wait for her hug after she realizes she's done wrong and she goes on like nothing ever happened.

I'm relishing the moments.

Some of my last with only two kids.

Where we squeeze on the love seat and read books for an hour,

or bake something out of the blue.

I love how we do devotions in the morning 

and pray together while I hold and rub their little hands.

I love how we're close, all day.

I love how the library is part of our weekly routine

and how Eden loves pajama days.

I love how the kids look forward to their sibling

saying they want a brother one day and a sister the next.

I love how they talk about the baby

and what their little roles will be.

And I especially love to watch their face 

when I put their little hand on my tummy and they feel the movement.

Winter kind of seems like a boot camp for behavior.

We're stuck with each other, in a small space, and we learn to thrive with each other.

It seems like life is easier in the summer.

Like the sunshine puts that extra skip in our step,

and we're humming or singing to everything we do.

But this is different, 

and I know we go through it every year.

I'm not complaining, 

because it means being with two little people 

that I love uncontrollably day in and day out. 

I get to learn them better. 

And I get to study them more.

I know what will follow certain looks.

I learn new things that excite them.

I anticipate what emotions are coming,

and there's growth, all around.

This winter, so far, I've watched them become best friends.

I've watched them miss each other when one is gone for minutes,

and I've thanked God for answering that prayer.

We have our days

and we definitely have our moments.

But even the not so great moments equal up to incredible days,

because I got to see it, I got to experience it, I got to be a part of it.

And that, I wouldn't trade for anything.

Not anything in the world.