Diaper Days

I feel like I've reached the end of an era.

The past six years, for me, have been marked by diapers. Countless diapers. Disposable diapers. Cloth diapers. Prefolds. All-in-ones. Swim diapers. You name it, and I have probably tried it.

For six years I've budgeted the cost of diapers and wipes into my monthly expenditures. I've perused sale ads for baby items and stocked up on coupons for diapers, wipes, and diaper cream.

For nearly six years now I've nursed babies and toddlers. I'll just say I never planned to nurse a toddler. But when my children were one, they still looked like babies to me. Weaning, for us, was a slow, long, drawn out process.

For six years now I've had interrupted sleep. I've grown used to waking up with little creatures snuggled close to me--so much so that when I  wake without them, I have trouble falling back to sleep.

My identity has become that of mother with baby. That is how I see myself these days. And I am shocked at how quickly it's coming to an end.

Laila will be three in January. Three. I can hardly wrap my mind around that. She's a big girl--she reminds me of that daily. She is independent and fully potty-trained. And although it is a relief to not have to buy diapers, change diapers, wash diapers, and dispose of diapers, it saddens me to see this stage of my life coming to an end.

I think back to when Connor was a newborn. I honestly thought I'd spend six weeks adjusting to him, and then tuck him neatly into my life and start a career as a working mom. I never thought it could be difficult. I never thought there would be days when I just didn't know what to do.

Connor cried. So much. I guess he had colic--whatever that means. I carried him constantly. I really didn't mind, except that when I carried him I couldn't do other things. And when I couldn't do other things, I wasn't being productive. And if I wasn't being productive, well, then I was just being lazy.

At least that's the way I saw it at the time.

I never planned to be a stay-at-home mom. The thought never crossed my mind until Connor was born. It took me nearly fifteen months to finally adjust to him--to finally feel like I was at a place where I could neatly tuck him into my life and begin my legal career.

But my career was short-lived. I felt rushed, pulled in a million directions, and what bothered me the most was how fast everything seemed to be going. Connor was a toddler--my absolute favorite age--and it was going by so fast. I missed him during the day. I had so few hours with him at night. More than anything, I just wanted everything to slow down.

So I resigned. I returned home. We had a second baby. I wish I could say we lived happily-ever-after, but my entire motherhood has been marked by a longing to have a career and a longing to be a stay-at-home mom. And I can't do both. At least not at the same time.

But it goes by so fast. I remember feeling so inexperienced as a young mom. I feel like I've finally got the baby-toddler thing figured out, but my children are outgrowing that stage. And I have to learn all over again.

Don't get me wrong--I am so excited about the future with my children. I look forward to elementary school, extracurricular activities, family vacations, and yes, even high school. I look forward to visiting colleges, planning careers, planning weddings. I look forward to someday having grandchildren and getting to watch the cycle of life all over again.

I just wish, as a young mom, that I had cherished it more. That I had viewed the countless hours I spent holding a baby as a blessing rather than a burden. That I had viewed mothering, in and of itself, as enough. That I had not spent so much time longing for something more.

Two years ago Connor gave me a Mother's Day gift with a verse from Ecclesiastes: "For everything there is a season." I have heard that verse countless times throughout my life, have memorized the passage that it is taken from. But up until that moment, for some reason, I had never applied that verse to my life as mother.

There are so many seasons. So many seasons for the children. And yes, so many seasons for me. Maybe I'll have a legal career someday. Maybe I'll teach. Maybe I'll write a book. Maybe I'll stay home and bake cookies with my grandchildren. I don't know what the future holds for me, but I am convinced that God will carry me through it all, and that whatever He gives me to do will be sufficient to fill my needs. So right now I am content to enjoy the season I am in--the mothering season.

This is pretty much how I feel and look most days!

Me and my girl!

Laila in the baby carrier (she LOVED this thing!)

At the beach with the kids

Laila's first boat ride (aka Grumpy Face)

It's beginning to look a little like Christmas...

Christmas is coming.

I haven't felt my usual level of anticipation for Christmas this year. It could be because I'm obsessed with our upcoming trip to Disney World (just five more days!). Or because it's been unseasonably warm. Or because I'm just not ready to let go of what has been an almost perfect fall.

But like it or not, it is coming.

We started decorating this weekend, and even that has not gotten me in the spirit. I grumbled along, wondering why we do so much. Thankfully Laila was there to lift my spirits.

Laila will be three in January, and she is too young to remember last Christmas. When we started unpacking the Christmas decorations this past weekend everything was exciting for her. She went through the entire box of tree ornaments, marveling at each one she pulled out. (Our tree is not up yet--it will arrive tomorrow.) We put a "princess tree" in her room, and she has not stopped admiring it or talking about it.

Laila and her Princess Tree

She was even more charming when I pulled out the nativity scene. She watched intently as I set out each piece.

"Who's she?" she asked, pointing to the shepard.

"It's a shepard," I replied. "I don't think it's a girl, though."

"What's her name?" Laila asked, unconvinced that I knew what I was talking about.

After I meticulously arranged the pieces, Laila moved Mary next to a wise man. "She's going to cuddle with him," she replied.

Then she moved a sheep next to a goat. "And this lamb will cuddle with him," she said.

She picked up another lamb. "Who will he cuddle with," she asked, deeply concerned.

Laila rearranged the entire scene, finding a friend for each figure.

 Connor returned from his trip to Nina and Papa's last night and decorated his blue Charlie Brown tree.

Connor, Puppy, Eagle, Elfie, and Nala.

We kept adding friends, and made a photo-session out of it!

 This morning the children woke up to a special treat from Santa: their Magic Elves had arrived!

Connor had a Magic Elf last year that he named Elfie. This year Laila got her very own. "Look what Connor brought me!" she said. Laila named her Elf Lola.

Laila and Lola

The elves will visit until Christmas Eve, and Santa will take them home with him when he visits. We had a lot of fun with Elfie last year, and Connor was excited to have his friend return. The cool thing about these elves is that the children can play with them during the day. At night we sprinkle them with Magic Elf Dust, and that is when the real fun begins!

So Christmas is here. I know it will be a lot of fun--it always is. Merry Christmas from our family to yours!

Rest Stop

It was an ordinary day. 

Connor and I were driving back from Florence, where we had taken Laila for a weekend with Nina and Papa. Connor was grumpy because Laila was spending the weekend there without him.

“Connor, this is Laila’s weekend with Nina and Papa. Next weekend you will stay with them by yourself. Trust me; you’ll be happy about it next weekend when you’re the one going!”

Connor grumped. 

We were thirty miles from home when Connor announced that he had to use the bathroom.  Fortunately there was a rest area just a few miles ahead. We stopped.

After a quick stop, I was ready to get back in the car and finish the journey. But Connor had other plans. 

“I have an idea about how I can stretch my legs,” Connor said. He tagged me, ran a few steps away, and looked back and grinned.

How can I resist that smile? The same grin of my once-chubby two year old looked up at me with the face and body of a six year old. Where did the time go?

I ran after him. I chased him into a picnic shelter, where he declared that “everything wood is base.”

I waited for him to dart off again, into a large grassy area. 

“I’ve got you now,” I said, running after him.

“Mom, trees are also base. You know they’re wood, right?” he said, running up to a small tree.

I chased him around that grassy area, wondering why I hadn’t worn tennis shoes for the car ride to Florence. Who was I dressing up for anyway?

Connor collapsed into a giant pile of clover. 

“Mom, let’s see if we can find a four-leaf clover!”

We started searching, and immediately I was transported to my own childhood, and the countless hours I spent searching for the elusive lucky clover.

Connor rolled onto his back. “Let’s look for shapes in the clouds!”

I laid down next to him, and he put his head on my stomach.

The sky was clear and blue. It was a brisk 55 degree November day.

“I wish we lived here,” Connor said.

“At the rest stop?”

“Yes, I wish our house was right here. Look at all the clovers!”

Kids think the strangest things, I thought. I watched the world fly by on the interstate. We would join them soon enough.

I thought of our home—the large room upstairs with bins and bins of toys. The swing set and play house outside. The bicycles, tricycles, scooters, and sporting equipment. The friends that live next door. The t.v. and countless kids’ movies. The iPad with special apps for the kids. All that, and Connor was content to lie in a field of clover.

But I know what it really was. Connor was content because he had me. My undivided attention. I was his captive audience. Laila was not there vying for my attention. There was no computer to type on, no stove to cook at, no house to clean. Just me and my boy.

That’s all they really want from us—our time. It seems so simple, and yet days go by when I fail to just stop and be with my kids. It’s not that I don’t want to—I love being with them. But there are so many distractions, and sometimes I just forget.

And I think God is a bit like Connor. He just wants our time—that’s it. Sure, he likes it when we do great things for him, when we do great things for one another—His children. But what He really wants, what He craves, is our time. He longs for us to lie down in a field of clovers with Him and just be. 

"The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside still waters; he restores my soul."

                                         My Sweet Boy and his Puppy!