She’s up in the morning
Before she’s awake,
Putting on coffee
And pouring cornflakes,
Finding lost shoes,
Combing sleep rumpled heads,
And making the beds.
She kisses her husband
On his way out the door,
She washes up the dishes
And then vacuums the floor.
A quick cup of coffee,
While folding the clothes,
She teaches her toddler
Not to pick in her nose.
The children are fighting
The phone’s ringing too,
There’s only so much that
One woman can do.
Supper is burning,
Husband walks through the door,
Just as the kids
Knock the lamp to the floor.
He gathers his wife
For a well deserved hug,
Then helps her to round up
Their two little bugs.
Little teeth brushed,
Stories are read,
Two sleepy children
Are sent to their beds.
She finally gets
a moment to rest,
Another day over,
The house is a mess.
Sometimes she wonders,
How she manages it all,
Without chaining her puppies
To the nearest stout wall.
She looks at her children,
On her way up to bed.
Sees two little angels,
Two sleep rumpled heads.
She stands there just watching
Those little girls rest,
It is then that she knows
Her life is the best.
The Housewife : Sondra Falck source
Last Thursday (we go to church on Thursday night so we can save Sunday for an entire day of family), we had our Sweet Bea dedicated at church.
As I was laying out the clothes for the girls (smocked of course 🙂 :)). I contracted a case of the butterflies. This is one of those days in your child’s life that you only get to do once. It takes up an entire page in their baby book, and is one of those milestone events that you will someday explain to them. The fact that we’ve been able to do this now twice is simply put: a dream come true.
That night we stood on the stage physically in front of a few family and friends, but also spiritually beneath a great cloud of witnesses, both on earth and those who have passed before us. They will hold us accountable to the promise we made that night to raise our Bea in a home that honors, loves, and obeys the LORD and teaches her to do the same. We will.
Before we were called to the stage, the evening opened with worship and the team belted out the most beautiful country version of “I’ll Fly Away”. This was the first time MG was in the service with us, but I am proud to say she was able to sing along as this is in our nightly bedtime lullaby rotation. As I watched her sing with Daddy encircling her, clapping her hands, looking down at sweet Bea resting in my arms, I was overcome with emotion.
This, this is what I imagine, pray, dream Heaven to be.
May you follow us there, dear girls,
note: I’ve found my writing style to be a bit different lately. possibly due to this current phase of life I’m in: my head is foggy, my heart is mushy, and my hands are full. thanks for bearing with me as I find my new voice 🙂
Remember when we went to see Catfish in theaters, on a school night, at 11pm? When we only had exactly two loads of laundry each week? When we changed our sheets only once a week?
Remember when every night was date night? When the determining factor in picking a restaurant was the menu and not how close it was or how high-chair friendly it is?
Remember when our cars were spotless? When we could haul stuff around in the backseats because there weren’t 2 car seats and an explosion of toys? When we didn’t look in the rearview mirror to see a little green frog-shaped potty?
Remember when we took a hip-hop dance class just for the fun of it (what were we thinking?) And that time we slept in the guest bedroom for 6 weeks just because we could? When we used to sleep in and make biscuits and gravy on the weekend with those little fancy plates?
Remember when we used to turn the heat off at night to save a few pennies? When we didn’t have to hide in the pantry to eat something sweet after dinner? When we used to have “reading parties” at the supper table because we both enjoyed the silence?
Remember when we used to just pick up and take off for the weekend (why didn’t we do that more??)? When we picked up our phones, made a phone call, talked as long as we wanted, and then mindlessly put them down? Remember when we thought our little ball of grey fluff was the cutest thing ever and that we’d never be able to give anything as much love as we gave to him?
I don’t much either.
Those were the old days, but they weren’t the good ones. No, I’m quite certain that is what we have now,
This month has been filled with…
-inhalations of soapy, milky, baby hair
-the prettiest eye lashes framing the most expressive blue eyes
-thick, doughy thighs that stick to your skin in the heat
-tiny toes that spread so wide and far you can fit your index finger through them
-a balled up fist that serves to keep paci in place
-fingers that finally open AND close
-a tummy that has the most perfect and pleasing weight to it
-a conversation of coos upon locking eyes
-a smile that is meant
–this (notice how she is multi-tasking already? the paci grab is not a fluke, she has done it multiple times since….that’s my determined girl :))
bea 3 mos from Kate on Vimeo
and finally, just because it’s fun:
I’m seeing a little more similarity these days, but what do you think? Here’s both the girls at 3 months:
It occurred to me as the days and nights are slipping away there a few memories I have tucked away in my heart that I wanted to record. Right now these memories are a constant and very habitual but very soon they will be just a distant feeling attached to this very condensed but extraordinary time in my life. How quickly one forgets….
I forgot what night was like with a baby.
Not so much the up-all-hours part (we’re past that, knock on wood).
But the staying up till 11 to feed her one last time and then rocking quietly in the dark until her tiny fingers unlock their grasp on my hair and her arms fall heavy to her sides.
Kissing her one last time and placing her ever so gently in her bed…praying that the startling coolness of the sheet doesn’t wake her.
Silently entering big sis’s room, sure to cover her up under the blankets she’s inevitably kicked off. A kiss on the cheek and a whispered promise to be a better mommy tomorrow.
Breathing finally into a quiet house, lights are methodically extinguished, prayers are said, and at last my head falls heavy on the pillow too.
The last one to bed and never the first one up.
Despite my exhaustion, sleep does not easily find me. I lay, listening for those bitty cries that only a mommy can hear that signal she is needed. My sleep is light wondering when they will come.
These are things I want to remember about my life right now.
It has been one year this August since our journey with Bea began.
The emotions of last summer, though dulled, still linger in my heart. The uncertainty, the heartbreak, the disappointment. But God carried us through and our hearts nearly burst with excitement when the news of her expectation entered our world.
Sometimes I look at her and think: it was you.
When the call came from the doctor…it was you.
When we first heard that rhythmic beat on the screen…it was you.
When they first told us it was a girl…it was you.
When I felt you alive and moving around in my belly…it was you.
When I dreamt about you: what you would like like, smell like, feel like…it was you.
It was you all along. We didn’t know you then, you only existed in our dreams. But now you are here and it all makes perfect sense.
You were it and now you are ours.