The day after Mother's Day

I came across this: 

"The most difficult part of birth is the first year afterwards. It is the year of travail - when the soul of a woman must birth the mother inside her. The emotional labour pains of becoming a mother are far greater than the physical pangs of birth; these are the growing surges of your heart as it pushes out selfishness and fear and makes room for sacrifice and love. It is a private and silent birth of the soul, but it is no less holy than the event of childbirth, perhaps it is even more sacred." - Joy Kusek

Nothing could ring more true in my heart.

Holding my new little one in my arms and watching my two year old run around, I started thinking of my very first Mother's Day.

Just 2 months in to motherhood, I was still so foggy.  Still floating around trying to plant my 2 feet on the ground of my new normal.  It wasn't until the end of Lucy's first year when I truly felt I had become.  There was less thinking and more doing and feeling.  I no longer felt like the title of mother was something I was trying to earn, it was now part of the intricate fabric that made me, me.  And I really liked that me.

So this Mother's Day, I am thankful for Lucy, for making me a mother, for making me a much better me.  And I'm thankful for Lulah, for affirming that there is nothing else I would rather be doing, there is no greater calling in my life right now.

I'm thankful for the peace that comes when you know you're exactly where you're supposed to be.

Doing, not perfectly, not the best, but exactly what you're supposed to be doing. 

4 Years

Dreaming, creating, imagining our future.   

I like to keep his head in the clouds.

Discipline, hard work, planning for our future.   

He likes to keep my feet on the ground.

Was there ever a better pair then a Dreamer and a Doer??

Thank you honey...for choosing me to build a life with.

Thank you for the pure contentment I live in daily.

Thank you for a future I'm excited about.

Strawberries and a little girl

 Lucy,

You are my fruititarian.  There's not a fruit you've met that you haven't loved.  You rotate who takes on the leading role, but they all have a turn.

It was strawberry time, so we headed to a strawberry farm.

With a bucket in hand, you took off sauntering down the aisles.  Never more than 3 or 4 strawberries full, the rest filled your cheeks and covered your shirt.

I could not stop staring at you.

Not just because you looked like you had just slaughtered a live animal, but because I was staring at a little girl.

I'm constantly amazed at how frequently you change and grow.  Your hair's getting longer.  You share stories and can talk about your day now.  But I'll have these moments where it all hits me at once.

Standing in those strawberry fields was one of those times.

I kept telling your dad, 'Look at her!  Just look at that little girl!'

My funny, kind-hearted, spirited little girl.

 

The kiss of death

She wanted to simply blow it a kiss.

She got distracted by the amount of saliva produced.

 He couldn't inch away fast enough...

Sisters: Grocery List

 

She wanted to help make a grocery list.  We are out of some of her favorites.  So she starts naming:

booberries

strawerries

gapes

waffles

We continue to take turns naming things off for our list.  She suddenly looks up at me with eyes wide. She had thought of the most important thing.  She shouts, "more Lulah!"

Yes, I think we could all use some more Lulah...

Dear Lulah {month one}

Dear Lulah,

One month.

I haven't cracked open a baby book since you've been born. I don't know what size you are 'supposed' to be or what milestones you should be achieving.

But here's what I do know Lulah Grey...

You are ten pounds and you smile.  The mouth wide open, whole face kind of smile.  You nurse great and it's one of my favorite times with you.  You spit-up.  A lot.  A good portion of the time.  We do a lot of laundry.  And that's okay.  Your grunts literally sound like we have a billy goat living in our house.  When you are awake in my arms and looking up at me, I can almost feel you trying to take in every sight and sound with your entire being.  Your eyes swallow my soul.  It's also been a month of re-strengthening those baby carrying muscles. A month of becoming re-accustom to the heat that one little body produces when they are almost permanently attached to you. A month of letting myself fall into the rhythm of just listening to my body and responding to yours. It's been taking a deep breath and smiling as I cringe because big sister typically greets you every morning with a cough in your face and a poke to your eyeball showing me that your eyes are open. It's been learning to discipline a two year old while you nurse in my arms. It's been a glimpse of a sister friendship that excites my heart.

I know that this has been the sweetest month of my life.

You are so peaceful that it can't help but spill over. And it affects our household. I see it when your daddy holds you and I see it when your sister lights up at your presence.

We are so far from having it all together as a family of four.  But that's not what I'm really striving for.

We're just letting your little life, your sweet and gentle soul, change us.

When it comes down to it, I'm just not scared this go around.  Scared that I won't be enough or do it right.  That I can't change and be stretched into a better person.

Because I know, and am always having to remind myself, that I don't have to.

God's grace and provision never fails.  In my weakness, His power works best.

That's what I go back to.

That sustains me more than any book on parenting

Your sister turned my world upside down.  She brought me closer to my Savior.  She taught me to love Him more.  She taught me how to love your daddy better.

God used her warmth and light to start pounding out the selfish in me so that I could experience the fruit of selfless love.

And while you will certainly aide in furthering that process...

I'm getting a taste of that sweetness with you.

Love,

Mama