Ok, the secret is out...I am a sentimental person, especially when it comes to my babies. Contrary to that, I am also very serious about getting rid of clutter, or anything that is surviving in my house primarily to collect dust. Everyone's heard of the disorder known as hoarding...well, if there is an opposite disorder in which one removes from the house as much as one hoards, than I have that disorder. No not really, but almost.
On the other hand, I have kept, reused, washed and stored everything from my first baby shower with Austin until just recently, where I found myself in a battle between the sentiments and the "consinements." What to keep, and what to give away to consinement?
There were toys not being played with, baby paraphernalia unoccupied, and clothes Ainsley and Austin had outgrown that all needed desperately to find a new home. (Obviously Ava's clothes will be keepers until Ainsley passes through them.) It all sounds so simple; get rid of what you dont need, and keep what you do.. right? I'm sure every mother will understand what I am about to embark on....It is never easy to get rid of the unique things that were once a part of such a special era in the life of you and your child. This is the time that a mother's bond with her little person is the strongest. With that, I have managed to get rid of what we dont need, epecially the items which can always find residence in another family's infant-bound home, and keep just a few things of sentimental worth.
Upstairs in my closet sits three boxes that I will one day give to each of my children. Enclosed in the boxes are the outfits they wore home from the hospital, some booties, a plush toy, and brush etc. Each box is intricately packed with items from their "baby-life." I too have a box for myself with a few things they wont miss ;-)
There is one larger baby item that I will never part with, even after they've gone on to college and started their own careers and families... it is my rocking chair. This was something that was more mine then there's, but they all spent their share of time in it. Actually, some of the most significant times of bonding were spent in this chair -- precious, priceless moments, where I nursed and rocked my sweet little ones every night as they drifted off into dream land.
In, The Rocking Chair, I found time to pray over my babies for health, wisdom, and knowledge of God's love for them. I prayed for patience for myself in caring for them and rest for both of us as the night tarried on. As I rocked them, I would relish in the moment, memorizing every little thing about them, from the unique curves on their tiny faces to the distinct soft spots on their round little heads. When placed on my shoulder nothing was so sweet as the soothing sound of their breathing and little baby snores, it was always such a peaceful time of winding down after a very, very busy day (and increasingly busy with each additional child :-) And as I would lay them in to the comfort of their crib, I would take one last look before leaving the room in all of its peacefulness, and lift up a prayer to the Lord one more time to keep baby (A___) safe and sound through the night. Anyone who has ever experienced any of this knows the immensity of God's blessings.
I recently stopped nursing Ainsley shortly after her first birthday. Making it to a year is not an easy task for me, but I will say that this transition was bitter-sweet, and though I would love to anchor in the baby years for the rest of my life, things must move on. Babies become toddlers, and toddlers become rascals! I look forward to this new stage of having three walkers, three self-feeders and better yet, three independent potty-users! I can almost smell the freedom as Ainsley becomes more self-sufficient each and everyday! And once they are too old to be rocked and have moved on to taste freedom for themselves, I will still have my chair. And even in their absence, I will still cradle their worries, cares, and tears in my arms as I pray over them each night in my rocking chair.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Thursday, March 24, 2011
From the Sunday Morning Rest to the Sunday Morning Rush.
I remember as a young girl Sunday mornings with my family. It truly was a day of rest. Of course this was also twenty years ago. It was the one day of the week we could, if we chose to, sleep in. When I woke up, mom would often have bacon, eggs and pancakes cooking on the stove. Dad would usually be sitting in his recliner by the big picture window reading a book and sipping on a cup of Folgers. The aroma of the coffee would fill the house silently telling everyone it was morning and time to wake up. I think I drink coffee to this day just because of that familiar smell that takes me back.
At some point in the morning I would hear my two older sisters bickering for a spot in our quaint bathroom which was by no means fit for a family of four females. One of my sisters tells of her memory of the "single bathroom drama" in these words, " I know that as soon as she heard my feet hit the floor she would jump out of bed, race down the stairs and dash into the bathroom to stake claim on the shower". With some screaming, pushing and shoving, they always managed to get showered and beautified with still enough time to enjoy some of Marty Stoufers, "Wild America"on our box of three channels. When it was time for Sunday School, all five of us would squeeze into the family car, where the saga continued..In the absence of air conditioning, dad preferred the windows down, contrary to my sisters, who did not want their hair to be tampered with by the wind. This was true of every Sunday until fall and winter arrived. Praise the Lord for cold weather!
All of the battles and conflict were only a minute part of our Sunday morning routine. I can look back at them now and chuckle. One thing that will always be magnified to me is the restfulness of the day. After church we would go to "Grams" for cheeseburgers and salad, spend some time with family and then back home for a bike ride or swim in the lake. We were able to pack so much activity into one day and still return for another hour of church in the evening.
Let's fast forward to present day and leave the end of I-95 North to come to the end of I-95 South, and I literally do mean the "end." Two decades later and some distinct cultural and economical differences actually moves us ahead thirty years, from the Sunday Morning Rest to what I now call the, Sunday Morning Rush.
My husband Brandon is the senior pastor of a seemingly large church in South Miami. His Sunday mornings start at five AM. He is usually out of the house before the AAAs even open their little peepers, with the exception of my early bird Ava Marie. I will quietly but quickly get myself showered and dressed in my Sunday best before the party starts.. Yes thats right.. you read, "PARTY" and it is nothing short of a party. Let me enlighten you...
This past Sunday It was my darling Ainsley's first birthday and I had a new outfit for her along with matching outfits for the sibs. Ava was elated about her dress until she put it on to find that the bow on the front wasn't directly in the middle. It was off to the side. I feared the worst, but with some non-sparing of the rod, I managed to get her calmed down so we could then tackle the shoes. Ava likes one pair of shoes and it wasnt the pair I had in mind. I knew this wouldnt be easy but eventually, I had the Ava Marie fixed, primped and ready to go.
Ainsley was a little less difficult. My biggest obstacle with her always revolves around a simple diaper. As soon as the diaper comes off, she crawls away, giggling and laughing, with impeccable speed. Once changed and fresh, she hobbles into her outfit without to much of a fuss. She's pretty consistant and throws me no surprises.
This particular day, Austin was the straw that broke the camel's back. After setting the house alarm, locking up the house and latching in the girls to their carseats, I look down and discover to my surprise that Austin is in his bear feet. I bit my tongue, wiped the sweat off my forehead, and dashed inside for a quick pair of crocks, then back to the van, to peel out of the driveway.. :)
You see, all of these little mishaps take time, precious time that is hard to come by on Sunday morning. What our goal is for Sunday morning is to be out of the house by 8 AM. I have started a little Sunday morning tradition for the kids that I enjoy as much as they. I've tried to create something calming about the day that they can look back at as a pleasant family memory. Yes, daddy is missing from the picture, but some things we have no control over, so we make it work. What we look forward to every Sunday is something that all three of the A's equally love; a weekly visit to Panera Bread, where we all four enjoy our Cinnamon Crunch Bagel's with Honey Walnut Cream Cheese. Austin and Ava share one and I give Ainsley a chunk of mine which she takes with her tongue hanging out and her hands wide open. (she doesn't get the cream cheese:) They all sit like perfect angels who never give their mom any problems whatsoever, and cordially eat there bagel. I dont know how it is that they behave so pleasingly every Sunday morning at Panera, but they know if they don't, there wont be any more bagel stops.
I wipe their faces and into the van we go again to finish our trip to the church. I actually love being on the road in Miami on Sunday mornings, due to the rare mild traffic. Its the one day that I just might not get honked at and may have the road to myself for a moment.
From the smell of dads coffee, to a quick stop for a Bagel, its all about a childhood memory. Routines change no matter where we are, but its amazing how significantly time has changed one particular day of the week for our family.
At some point in the morning I would hear my two older sisters bickering for a spot in our quaint bathroom which was by no means fit for a family of four females. One of my sisters tells of her memory of the "single bathroom drama" in these words, " I know that as soon as she heard my feet hit the floor she would jump out of bed, race down the stairs and dash into the bathroom to stake claim on the shower". With some screaming, pushing and shoving, they always managed to get showered and beautified with still enough time to enjoy some of Marty Stoufers, "Wild America"on our box of three channels. When it was time for Sunday School, all five of us would squeeze into the family car, where the saga continued..In the absence of air conditioning, dad preferred the windows down, contrary to my sisters, who did not want their hair to be tampered with by the wind. This was true of every Sunday until fall and winter arrived. Praise the Lord for cold weather!
All of the battles and conflict were only a minute part of our Sunday morning routine. I can look back at them now and chuckle. One thing that will always be magnified to me is the restfulness of the day. After church we would go to "Grams" for cheeseburgers and salad, spend some time with family and then back home for a bike ride or swim in the lake. We were able to pack so much activity into one day and still return for another hour of church in the evening.
Let's fast forward to present day and leave the end of I-95 North to come to the end of I-95 South, and I literally do mean the "end." Two decades later and some distinct cultural and economical differences actually moves us ahead thirty years, from the Sunday Morning Rest to what I now call the, Sunday Morning Rush.
My husband Brandon is the senior pastor of a seemingly large church in South Miami. His Sunday mornings start at five AM. He is usually out of the house before the AAAs even open their little peepers, with the exception of my early bird Ava Marie. I will quietly but quickly get myself showered and dressed in my Sunday best before the party starts.. Yes thats right.. you read, "PARTY" and it is nothing short of a party. Let me enlighten you...
This past Sunday It was my darling Ainsley's first birthday and I had a new outfit for her along with matching outfits for the sibs. Ava was elated about her dress until she put it on to find that the bow on the front wasn't directly in the middle. It was off to the side. I feared the worst, but with some non-sparing of the rod, I managed to get her calmed down so we could then tackle the shoes. Ava likes one pair of shoes and it wasnt the pair I had in mind. I knew this wouldnt be easy but eventually, I had the Ava Marie fixed, primped and ready to go.
Ainsley was a little less difficult. My biggest obstacle with her always revolves around a simple diaper. As soon as the diaper comes off, she crawls away, giggling and laughing, with impeccable speed. Once changed and fresh, she hobbles into her outfit without to much of a fuss. She's pretty consistant and throws me no surprises.
This particular day, Austin was the straw that broke the camel's back. After setting the house alarm, locking up the house and latching in the girls to their carseats, I look down and discover to my surprise that Austin is in his bear feet. I bit my tongue, wiped the sweat off my forehead, and dashed inside for a quick pair of crocks, then back to the van, to peel out of the driveway.. :)
You see, all of these little mishaps take time, precious time that is hard to come by on Sunday morning. What our goal is for Sunday morning is to be out of the house by 8 AM. I have started a little Sunday morning tradition for the kids that I enjoy as much as they. I've tried to create something calming about the day that they can look back at as a pleasant family memory. Yes, daddy is missing from the picture, but some things we have no control over, so we make it work. What we look forward to every Sunday is something that all three of the A's equally love; a weekly visit to Panera Bread, where we all four enjoy our Cinnamon Crunch Bagel's with Honey Walnut Cream Cheese. Austin and Ava share one and I give Ainsley a chunk of mine which she takes with her tongue hanging out and her hands wide open. (she doesn't get the cream cheese:) They all sit like perfect angels who never give their mom any problems whatsoever, and cordially eat there bagel. I dont know how it is that they behave so pleasingly every Sunday morning at Panera, but they know if they don't, there wont be any more bagel stops.
I wipe their faces and into the van we go again to finish our trip to the church. I actually love being on the road in Miami on Sunday mornings, due to the rare mild traffic. Its the one day that I just might not get honked at and may have the road to myself for a moment.
From the smell of dads coffee, to a quick stop for a Bagel, its all about a childhood memory. Routines change no matter where we are, but its amazing how significantly time has changed one particular day of the week for our family.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
This Season in Life...
I'm really not sure if this blogging thing is going to be for me or not, but right now all I know is that "In this season of life" I have the most interesting material straight from the mouths of babes! My days are never boring or dull, only eventful and full of life!
The other day as I was driving back home from a beautiful day at the park, Ava and Ainsley had fallen asleep in there seats and Austin was, as usual, full of questions. This particular day the question was, "Mom, who came first, you or daddy?" I just knew there wouldn't be a quick easy way to answer this. It would take some effort and creative detail made into a long story, fit for a four year old. I came up with a quick plot of where his dad and I were born... met... fell in love... married and then grew a bump and named it Austin...He got so into the story that when I got to the third bump he finished the story and said, " and then came Ains!" It filled my heart with laughter and joy just to hear him say that. He calls his baby sister Ains, short for Ainsley.
I've always found it interesting to see how the next child changes the dynamics of ones family. When I was pregnant I would wonder what it would be like adding another sibling to the mix. Would Austin and Ava miss having more of my time, and attention? But when she came....I realized that in time they would never remember life without her. Austin, Ava, and Ainsley have a strong bond with each other that nothing could ever break, except for maybe a small toy, piece of candy, or the last Pop-Tart. I find it so intriguing how they can be loving and hugging one another in one moment and then screaming and pulling hair the next. Even Ainsley, who loves her brother and sister so unconditionally and has the blindest of faith in them, will swat a sassy paw at them if they're trying for a food item or toy that she doesn't want to give up.
All in all, they've got each others back, whether it be on the playground or in the home. When Brandon and I are disgruntled with one of them for how they've behaved while out in "public, the other one will almost always run to the accused to give comfort and support during times of punishment. I really do hope this continues straight through the teen years. Adolescent years are tough, and everyone needs a brother or sister to get through the toughest of this so-called thing known as life.
Brandon and I look forward to our future with the triple A's as we watch them grow and become more independent and less dependent on us to do everything for them; from tying their shoes to wiping their little bums. But, I do know I am going to miss these days of changing diapers, night wakes, and cries for mommy because she is the ONLY one who will do. The memories of today are priceless, so for now, I am cherishing every moment of this season. George Straight has a song that says it all in this phrase: "Life's not the breaths you take, but the moments that take your breath away" I've had at least three of those moments when I gave birth to each of my little luv bugs.
I've always found it interesting to see how the next child changes the dynamics of ones family. When I was pregnant I would wonder what it would be like adding another sibling to the mix. Would Austin and Ava miss having more of my time, and attention? But when she came....I realized that in time they would never remember life without her. Austin, Ava, and Ainsley have a strong bond with each other that nothing could ever break, except for maybe a small toy, piece of candy, or the last Pop-Tart. I find it so intriguing how they can be loving and hugging one another in one moment and then screaming and pulling hair the next. Even Ainsley, who loves her brother and sister so unconditionally and has the blindest of faith in them, will swat a sassy paw at them if they're trying for a food item or toy that she doesn't want to give up.
All in all, they've got each others back, whether it be on the playground or in the home. When Brandon and I are disgruntled with one of them for how they've behaved while out in "public, the other one will almost always run to the accused to give comfort and support during times of punishment. I really do hope this continues straight through the teen years. Adolescent years are tough, and everyone needs a brother or sister to get through the toughest of this so-called thing known as life.
Brandon and I look forward to our future with the triple A's as we watch them grow and become more independent and less dependent on us to do everything for them; from tying their shoes to wiping their little bums. But, I do know I am going to miss these days of changing diapers, night wakes, and cries for mommy because she is the ONLY one who will do. The memories of today are priceless, so for now, I am cherishing every moment of this season. George Straight has a song that says it all in this phrase: "Life's not the breaths you take, but the moments that take your breath away" I've had at least three of those moments when I gave birth to each of my little luv bugs.
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