As cliche as it sounds, love truly knows no boundaries and can be felt for things that are not even living as I recently came to terms with while rocking Bubba Boo the other night. There is a sage green glider rocking chair that is currently residing in Bubba Boo’s room that used to take up with Missy Moo while she was still a little peep. Once we moved to the new house, Missy Moo took the distressed white antique rocker while Bubba Boo scored and got the comfortable green glider with the matching ottoman. Luckily, this went unnoticed by the sassy elder which is quite a feat in itself considering that she recently has taken to getting angry when Bubba Boo simply looks at her let alone touches something that belongs to her…Since Bubba Boo is now on his fifth ear infection for the season (he has impossibly tiny ear canals and yes, he will be getting tubes most certainly), I was spending some time quietly rocking him so he would calm down and maybe allow us all to get some sleep. I began to think of all I had experienced in this chair – this was where I rocked my first baby, nervous, scared, and filled with the apprehension that I could not possibly take care of this little being and how in God’s name did the hospital personnel allow her to leave with me? I remember thinking that I could actually die if I did not get some sleep while Missy Moo threw several of her colic fits during those first few months home. I remember wishing I had one of those “U” shaped pillows they sell in airports so I could sleep in the chair while I rocked both babies. I remember reading Missy Moo her first few books that hooked her so much that “reading her stories” is one of her most favorite things to do today. I remember rocking Missy Moo as she cried from a broken heart when we lost “old bunny” and thought he would never be seen again (he showed up later – thank God). I remember holding Missy Moo while I was pregnant with Bubba Boo and marveled at the incredibility of him kicking while she rested on my tummy – one inside, one out. I remember comforting the same colicky baby in a male form two years later that was just not ready to be born yet and wanted to go back to the womb. I remember sitting in that chair and, after talking with my hubby, handing over to God the mystery of whether or not we would have a third baby. If that chair could talk, I am certain it would say, “For the love of God, I am TIRED!!!” but yet it is always there and instantly calms anyone down who chooses to sit in it for just one moment. We purchased the green chair off the floor – it was the last of its style and had some smudge marks on the ottoman, so we bargained a discount and took it home the day we ordered Missy Moo’s crib and dresser. Being first time parents, we excitedly threw it in our SUV and promptly set it up in the corner of Missy Moo’s bedroom to patiently wait for its little friend to arrive. I loved passing by that room and seeing it sitting there just waiting for mommy and child to plunk down and chill during a long, sleepless night. It filled me with anticipation and longing to meet my little peanut that was so close to me yet still such a stranger. So I guess what I am coming to realize is that I love that chair, darn it. I will never be able to rid of it and can see me sitting in that glider when I am living in a retirement home waiting for each of my babies to come and take me to lunch. Oh, and God’s answer to the third baby dilemma? He or she is coming in July…
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When We Think It’s Impressive to Be Busy
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For When You Wash Your Phone in the Washing Machine
Last week, I found myself with an unplanned hour and a house of beckoning chores demanding immediate attention. So like any woman with a house full o’ kids and a husband that works long hours, I thought I would just cram as much as I possibly could into those precious 60 minutes. I arrived home, put on my running shoes and started to RUN throughout the house, checking this and that off my list. A few minutes into my Wonder Woman mission, I grabbed a load of dirty towels and, clutching my phone in my right hand, loaded them in ..
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We sat contemplatively around the table, speaking softly about the struggles of marriage. I complimented her on her courage because for some reason, we feel shame when we admit our marriage is in trouble. I know because I’ve been there and felt it, too. I begin to share some of my own heart and experiences with my ten year old marriage, wisdom attained through the really hard places. Unfinished wisdom that still percolates and wisdom I know but don’t always allow my actions and choices to show it. I then share some heart changes I had to make in order ..