that I do live a somewhat chaotic existence. But, within this chaos is so much joy also. Here are some tidbits:
- A hubby who takes it upon himself to begin the kitchen clean-up while I indulge my maternal instinct to sing my kiddos to sleep.
- A daughter who is struggling to learn the spirit of thankfulness, but who is showing fruit in this process. The other day she was sent to her bed to think on her rudeness to her momma and come up with something to thank me for. When I went to get her she told me, "Thank you momma for washing blankey and making her smell nice."
- A little buddy who cracks us up with his delights of the fruits of the earth. This kid loves to eat and it is a joy to feed him. Needless to say, if you know my daughter at all then you know that having a child who loves to eat is a special delight for me.
Emory is really growing up. The transistion in my relationship with her when Ethan was born was H-A-R-D! However, by God's grace I do believe we are over the proverbial hump and are beginning to figure out these new waters together. She's my little buddy again, and God has been opening my eyes a little more as to what makes her tick.
She loves it when I treat her as a big kid. When she feels like she and I are taking care of Ethan together. She especially loves to climb into his crib with him when he wakes up from a nap and read him books while I finish whatever it is that I was in the middle of. She tells me (rather cheerfully and importantly!), "You stay here, Mom. I'll get him for you." They laugh so hard at each other and sometimes I just stand outside of his door and listen to them. He loves her and she is learning to love him.
She thinks it's funny when I call him a "smelly dude" and loves to hand me wipes as I change his diaper. She's in charge of washing his "piggy toes" when he gets a bath, and she is completely disgusted that he will pee in his bath water. She loves to feed him when he gets solids, but never actually manages to get any of it into his mouth. He never gets frustrated with her, but is delighted by her special attention to him. She really wants to hold him and walk around with him, but he's so darn heavy I think she would drop him out of sheer exhaustion. So far I've only been brave enough to let her carry him from his doorway to his crib.
I'm learning to delight in this chaos because where I am weak, HE is strong. It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the diseased. This parenthood thing is showing me new levels of my need for Jesus. Like when both kids wake up grumpy and needy within minutes of each other. I need wisdom, I need patience, I need physical endurance, I need grace, I need kindness... I need HIM!