Saturday, August 17, 2013

When I miss University

Somedays, I miss University.

I miss having female roommates whose room I could run into to talk about the latest news from facebook.  I miss four day weekends and sleeping in.  I miss late night Big Stop runs.  I miss being able to make plans on the fly.  I miss going out with friends. I miss having the freedom to do as I please.  I miss writing papers and tests.  I miss being able to judge how well I am doing by the grade that graced those papers and tests.  I miss eating my meals with friends.  I miss talking to Dave about things other than how many poopy diapers were changed that day, or which baby was the crankiest.  I miss seeing Dave more than at breakfast and as I fall asleep at night.

 And today, when I miss University life, I recognize that one day I'll miss today.  I need to work on my patience and relishing the good moments - the times when I find Ella sitting in the corner singing quietly, or when Ella brings James his 'munny' when he is crying, or when she pushes him in the swing and he laughs, or when he tells me stories while sucking his thumb.  I'll miss Ella giving me kisses through the rungs of her crib, and I'll miss the way James smiles at me when I look at him.  I'll miss James' chubby legs in his Jolly Jumper, and how Ella always wants to help me cook.  I'll miss the way Ella says 'munny' (bunny), and 'box' (blocks), and 'Jay' (James), and 'duckie', and 'doggie', and 'birdie', and nana, and papa, and mama, and dada, and the way she woofs like a dog, and how she makes the best elephant noises.

I don't get to go out anymore.  I can't make plans on the fly.  I don't have great girlfriends who I can call up in a pinch, or whose bed I can go jump on when I am down.  My conversations with my husband revolve mostly around our children.   I change more poopy diapers in a day than most people wish to in their whole lives.  I spend most days at home or at work, and spend almost every night at home.  If I want to do anything, I have to schedule it far in advance.

But I am blessed.  I am blessed to have a little curly-haired blonde girl who loves life, and a little chubby boy who is incredibly happy.  Sometimes during the day, I need to remind myself of this, but if I'm being honest - at night, when they are sleeping - I miss them like crazy.

Thursday, August 1, 2013

A letter to my (almost) four month old little man


My heart aches with love for you.  Before you were born, I wasn't sure I'd have enough space in my heart for it to overflow with love for both you and your sister, but I do - it does.

But James, I often feel like I am failing you.  And that scares me.  You are a wonderful little boy - you sleep through the night, you are content, you do well in the car, and you give the biggest, brightest smiles.  But I take advantage of those - I have been able to continue helping out at the church, I have been running in the mornings, and taking classes at the local gym many evenings which means less time with you.

I don't have the same amount of time, attention, and patience to give you as I did your sister.  When I do get time with you, she often pulls me away from you so I can save her from being 'ducckk' with her head trapped between spindles on a chair, or after having climbed into your exercauser.
I go back to work next week.  On one hand, I am excited - I enjoy working, I love my job, and this is what I want.  I know it'll only be a couple of days a week for now, but as much as I am excited, I am scared.  I am scared that I will miss your childhood and I'll regret it later.  Being out of the house makes me a better mom when I am at home, especially with your sister who keeps me go-go-going all the time, but it still tears me apart inside to think of you spending days without me.

Going back to work also means that you and I won't have one day a week for just the two of us anymore.  I'll miss those.

If I am being honest, James, there are two things I am terrified of for you:

1)  That you won't end up understanding, grappling, and grasping the love that God has for you.  He loves you infinitely more than I do which (if I am being honest) is incredibly challenging for me to understand.  I hope you fully comprehend that love some day, and that you spend your life searching and working for His Glory (whether that be as a doctor, engineer, salesman, artist, pastor, or career of your choice).

2)  Selfishly, I am also terrified you won't love me.  I want you to love me and I hope you will be able to forgive my mistakes and misgivings.  I hope you will feel I am an honest friend who wants what is best for you.  Always.

You will not understand my love for you until you have a child of your own, but I hope you will at least always know that I do love you, I support you, and I will stand behind and beside you, no matter what.

I love your handsome smile.
I love the way you flinch when your sister comes to give you a hug.
I love your giggles when you get excited.
I love your little kicking legs.
I love how chubby your arms and legs are, and how round that belly and your cheeks (both sets!) are.
I love your joy-filled personality.
I love watching you in the bathtub since you love it so much.
and I even love those smelly little toots.

I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living, my handsome little James you'll be.
Your mama

Saturday, February 2, 2013

A letter to my 1 year old

My dearest Ella,

This past month, you turned one year old and it is so hard for me to believe that a year has passed so quickly.  I love you more today than I did the day you were born.

You started daycare a couple of months ago (in November).  At first I went before your nap time to feed you - it was the highlight of my day going to see you there - but now you don't need me in the day anymore so I don't see you from 9 in the morning until 5 in the afternoon.  I think it is harder on me to leave you than on you to leave me, but I am incredibly happy that you have fun there and are able to play with others your age.

For a while there, the doctors were a little concerned about your weight.  I guess this will happen when you are below the 5th percentile.  Everyone we talk to, though, says you can pack away food like the best of them (I have a theory that it goes in one end and comes right back out the other), and your daddy and I think you are just a beautiful, petite little girl. 

Your laugh is contagious.  You still don't break it out often (mostly only when you are overtired - you get this from me), but when you do it fills the room with joy.  I love making you laugh.

You haven't walked on your own yet, which is a real surprise to us.  You've been walking with help for many months now and I was sure you would walk by your birthday, if not Christmas.  Your legs are strong, and your balance is good - you walk and push anything that you can, but walking on your own seems to terrify you.  I don't mind helping you along - as I want you to stay little for as long as possible - but I pray that in the long run, when you are older, you will not be paralyzed by your fears (as I am frequently guilty of) but can reach new heights trusting in your own gifts and abilities and in the promises Christ has given us that He will always be with us and watch over us.

You are very talkative, in a language we don't understand.  You say very few real words (your new favourite is dada), but are incredibly good at getting your messages across (especially when you are hungry, "MMMmmmmmMMM").  Selfishly, I cannot wait for you to say 'mama' though!

I am already terrified of the day you don't want me around, or the first time you tell me you hate me - I think it will break my heart.  I also know, though, that you will never understand how much I love you until you have your own children.  My fears melt away when you give me kisses or give me a hug and pat my back, or rest your head on my shoulder - I wish I could capture those moments and keep them forever.

Sometimes I wonder why God thought your daddy and I were worthy of you.  You are the most beautiful, life-injecting little person I know.  You have your own wonderful personality that shines through all the time.

I pray every day that you grow up to know and love Jesus and all He has done for you and for us.  I pray that you know that He can be your source of strength and guidance.  And I pray that your daddy and I can be good, godly examples for you to follow.

And now we are expecting your little baby brother or sister.  Although I know you have no idea what is going on, I love it when you rub my belly, hug it, kiss it, or give it zerberts (your favourite thing to do).  You always look confused when I point to my belly and talk about the 'baby', and then we look at pictures of babies and I tell you that they are babies too.  I can't wait to watch you be a big sister, showing your younger sibling how to take all of the things out of mama's cupboards, or sharing your toys with him or her.  Your heart is so full of love and joy and I can't wait to double that in the household.

I love you more than you will ever know, my dear little 1 year old Ella.  I can't wait to continue to watch you grow and learn.


Your Mama