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Happy Birthday, Eloise! (42)

Oh darling girl, where do I begin?…

Happy Birthday, for starters! I cannot believe you are three today! You’re still the baby of the family for a little while longer, and it’s hard to imagine how that change is going to feel to any of us. You are so excited to be a big sister, and you’re going to be an amazing one, but I have so loved having you as our littlest, too.

Saying goodbye to two is bittersweet for me as your mama. You’ve already got your fingers prepped and ready to announce “three!” to anyone who asks, but I don’t know if I’m really ready to give up on two yet. Three is so big, and you are still so tiny. Your mind and vocabulary and active spirit all shout that you’re ready to move on–sometimes it just takes us mamas a little longer to acclimate. 😉

Eloise, you are as delightful as I could imagine, and as spunky and bold as I always prayed you would be. You don’t bend on the things that matter to you, and you hold your ground with those of us you know and love well. I’m so glad that you’re comfortable being honest, and that you’re not afraid to stand up for yourself when you need to.

You are so much more shy around others than you are at home, but your caution is wise and your assessments, accurate. You warm up in your own way when you’re ready. I admire that in you.

Your imagination is wild. So perfect for a girl your age, and so fun to witness. I’m not the best at playing with you in this capacity, but I’m working on it. I think I’ve spent too much time being matter of fact for my own good. You love to play with others–especially your brother. He has a coveted place in your heart that I doubt anyone will ever steal away. The two of you together make my heart skip a beat sometimes; you both love deeply and openly and without limit. I am always amazed at you and Henry and your compassion and awareness at your ages…you notice and raise concern for things I would have otherwise missed.

You are a rockin’ dancer with an awesome beat. Your dad and I love family dance parties and the chance to watch you in your element as you groove. You teach us ballet and appear out of nowhere, twirling in princess costumes with grace. I can’t wait to see what God wants to do with that rhythm and the love of music inside of you.

You also love water and swimming, swinging in the backyard and practicing on your bike. You are an adventurer–always up for the next thing on the agenda. You don’t like napping much these days, and I think it’s because you hate the thought of missing anything fun. You and Henry both bring life to our party of 4.8 in the daily.

Tomorrow we’re going to celebrate you with family and friends, and I can’t wait. You’ve been so excited (and waited so patiently for your turn) for so long. You have articulated all of your hopes and dreams for your self-proclaimed rainbow (and recently modified to “rainbows and unicorns”) party for some time. I hope that the bash will meet your expectations and then some. “Rainbows and unicorns” feel perfect for you, honestly. You are every bit glass half full and a dreamer to the max. You keep me believing in the very best in this world–something that is more of a gift to me as your mama than you’ll ever know.

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Today is your birthday, but you are celebrated each and every day of the year, sweet Eloise Josephine! You might grow far faster than my heart can handle, but you will always, always be our baby girl.

I love you as deeply as I know how, and then a bit further on for good measure. Here’s to three, and to thirty three times as many birthdays to come.

thanking God for you every day,

mama

 

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halfway and a heart check. (50)

Half way. Fifty days down and fifty to go in this countdown toward baby, and I kind of can’t believe we’re here. By the same token, so many signs point to baby getting close, and if we never arrived here, I’d be awfully hung up by now. Fifty days in feels just right.

The balloon artist downtown tonight asked me how much longer I had to go. He said he thought maybe I had stopped down to get a balloon on the way to the hospital. Thanks? This baby has grown for sure, but I do not yet look like Molly ready to give birth, I guarantee you. I’ll post a photo further into the countdown of what it looks like when I’m near ready to be in labor. No, I do not yet look like that.

I took the kids out this morning for bagels at our favorite joint. I say favorite because it’s history to us–the place we’ve been coming since long before Henry could walk himself over to his favorite chair and lounge there eating a bagel. The space has changed a lot, and it no longer feels like home to me. It will always be “home” in a nostalgic kind of way, but it’s only still our shop because it’s the place the kids beg to go for a treat when we have a day that’s wide open, and it’s the place where they’ve grown and changed and feel “in their own skin.” I love that about it, and I won’t be inclined to move on from it for some time, so long as it keeps feeling that way.

We ate bagels and Eloise had her favorite bar, and we said hello to all of the familiar faces and strolled out the door together smiling, as we do. Spending time there together just feels like us, so we keep going back.

When I just sit with our kiddos, enjoying them for who they are and what they bring to the table in the here and now, I am my best self as a mom.

I love to love our little ones well, and yet it is so easy to feel like I’m not doing that. The world makes it easy to feel inadequate, and as I’m learning afresh, so does pregnancy, and so do hormones, and so does the cranky edge that settles in around many of us when the summer heat is oppressive and we’re all coming up for air.

It has been especially difficult to feel like my best self as a mama in this season where all of the factors are playing in at once, so I am especially thankful for moments or days when I walk confidently in my motherhood and confidently in my deep, deep love for our babies. It’s always there, but I am better at showing it at certain times than in others, and I know the kids ride that roller coaster as I do. I wish they didn’t, but it’s part of doing life together, I think.

The kids are so sensitive to me and so aware of me, which is sometimes the very best thing as their mom. Other times, I feel like it means my emotions come at a cost to them, when their perception is so astute and I can’t just pretend all is well. Each addresses me in their own way when I am crumbling (which at 33 weeks along, I am wont to do much more often than usual). Eloise is a snuggler. She will drop whatever she’s doing to find me in my moment of duress and to get up close to comfort me in her cuddly way. Henry is a hugger and a crier, so as soon as my water works begin, his kick in, too. Both comfort in ways I’ve comforted them, and it’s beautiful that they care so much.

I trust that our time being intentional with one another contributes to this, and the rest I have to credit simply to God giving us all the very children He knows our hearts and our lives will need. I pray all of the time that I can be the mama who meets their hearts and needs most closely, too.

My heart in a photograph. God has lavished on us in ways I never imagined.

My heart in a photograph. God has lavished on us in ways I never imagined.

At this halfway point on this third 100 days journey, I am taking inventory of my own motherhood and how it has evolved and changed since the start. On a day when I could spend a good deal of time just plugging into our kiddos and enjoying them for who they are, I am a mix of profoundly grateful and heavy hearted. We have two resilient children who have patiently weathered this pregnancy with me, and by the same token, two babes who will never be the same for all of the times I’ve lacked energy, been short, answered harshly or not met them with the grace they so deserve as the loves of our lives.

I continue to be amazed at the gifts that God has given us in parenthood, and it’s hard to even fathom what adding another delightful life into the mix will mean for each of us in the time to come. The days are few between now and when we’ll discover who our newest babe will be, and I’m so glad that we know so little of who to expect will arrive in September. The anticipation is good for all of us, even as much as the wait is hard. I suspect that in fifty more days, give or take, we’ll be filled with joy all the more for “knowing” the unknown, and for reaping the beautiful reward of harder days and challenged hearts.

loving H and E and baby to be as much as ever, or as Henry would say, “a crazy ton!”

mm

 

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q&a with henry david. (51)

You think you have so much time, and the waiting seems endless. And then, as is so often the case, the big things you’ve planned for in life are suddenly mere days or weeks away, and you wonder how it all came up so fast. Time is a funny thing.

Tonight, Henry and I snuck out after dinner for a fairly impromptu “Henry and Mommy date” to Barnes and Noble. Earlier this week, he earned two new books because he met a reading goal. I could tell that a little one-on-one time would be significant to H after the day we had today, so we headed out together just before bedtime. He was so excited to go, and I was grateful for the space to take him.

Over the years, Jason and I have tried to make a priority of “dating” our kiddos…flip flopping between kids and each making sure we connect well with our little ones on a frequent basis. This is one of those things I’ve just taken for granted where time is concerned. Of course we’d fit in a few more dates with both Henry and Eloise before baby comes. And yet, the weeks keep slipping by, and it feels like if we don’t just jump at the chance when it arises, we’ll never fit in the important things we want to do before life changes for our family in a major way.

Being out with just Henry always makes me appreciate him even more. He is so fun to talk to, and equally as fun to watch, ride with, listen to, engage. We weren’t gone for very long, but we did go through the very important process of whittling many book choices down to the final two, we fit in some reading, and I had the chance to ask Henry a few questions about the baby and this upcoming change for him. I hope our littlest will enjoy reading what his or her big brother had to say…

  1. How do you feel about becoming a big brother again?  “I feel the best!”
  2. Why? “Because I’m going to be a big brother again. Because Eloise is here, and I’ll have another new baby to take care of.”
  3. Is there anything that you’re worried about? “Nope. Except I don’t really want to change its diaper.”
  4. Do you want the baby to be a boy or a girl? “Boy!!!”
  5. If you have a brother, what will you name him? “Hmm. I really don’t know the answer to that.”
  6. What is the hardest thing about waiting for baby? “Just waiting for it to come out and having to wait doing the normal stuff we used to do with you. It used to be the best when there was no one in your tummy. When just I was with you.”
  7. What are you excited to do with the baby? “Snuggle and play with it and make it laugh.”
  8. What makes you a great brother? “Cuz I teach my sister stuff. I protect her.”

I have no doubt that Henry will slot into his role of big brother again with grace, and with nothing but the utmost love for our littlest bean. Still, there are growing pains for all of us in this process, and there’s no doubt Henry is feeling them. I’m so thankful for the time we could take tonight to carve out new little memories and to be focused on each other. As he reminds me often, “Even when I grow up mom, I’ll always be your little guy.”

grateful to be Henry’s mama,

mm

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never underestimate. (58)

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Someone was praying today. I felt it, steady and strong. There are days when life feels so out on a limb, and then there are days like this one, when instead, I have a continual sense of being surrounded.

Isn’t that something?

Last night I tried to ready my heart for the day ahead. I was cloudy and tired, and it felt like pushing up against an unmovable resistance. I knew that today would be a long day with Jason gone for work until after the kids were in bed. I also knew that we’d be without water usage from 8a-5p, making household chores and things we take for granted a bit more difficult.

I woke up this morning with the single motivation to have a shower before the water was out of commission. Eloise woke up with a pretty awful summer cold, and Henry woke up in a good mood. I suppose that made us 1.5 for 3, give or take. I suggested we get out the door early for bagels before dropping H off at camp for the morning, and we miraculously made it out the door by 8:30a.

I spilled water everywhere at the bagel shop, but the kids were happy, breakfast in hand. I indulged in a decaf latte. Henry went enthusiastically off to camp.

Eloise and I wandered a little further out of town to a vintage/antique/restored furniture shop in search of a dresser for baby. In spite of her clearly miserable nose and growing cough, she stayed in good spirits. She and her long, curly pigtails danced to music at the store and invited me to join in. Together, we measured dresser after dresser until we found a winner. Already painted in the perfect colors and boasting plenty of vintage charm, our newest addition to the nursery fit perfectly into the back of my car. Eloise was exemplary. We wandered about finding all of the farm animals on all of the items in every nook and cranny of the store, and it was delightful. I love my time with her.

I had high hopes of heading to our weekly park playdate after camp pick up, but by 11:30a, I was fairly done with the heat and Eloise was fading fast. The little whisper of, “It’s ok not to do it all” in the back of my mind in on the way home was enough for me to call a spade a spade. Not quite noon yet, it was pushing 85º. My dad, just back from a two week trip to Europe, was free to FaceTime, so instead of packing lunches quickly for the park, I slowed way down and found a place on the couch.

Today was exactly what it needed to be, and I never saw it coming.

Eloise snuggled. All day, with the exception of her nap time. The kids played. We visited with my dad and step mom for a long time and caught up on all that happens in two weeks between travel and kiddos and pregnancy and family life. We ate a late and leisurely lunch. Everyone rested.

Everyone.

Henry even admitted later that he “learned to like lounging while resting” today. The pace that the day set naturally was better than anything I could have contrived with all of my best laid plans and overzealous schemes.

We visited with Aunt Bridget and co. on FaceTime after naps. We ate sandwiches and hummus and veggies and the sweetest-ever plums in the living room for dinner, picnic style, per Eloise’s request. We read books and cleaned up spaces and worked through an entire box of kleenex with our sniffles and cuddled up together for stories before bed. And aside from the usual pre-bedtime antics, the littles settled into sleep without much resistance, which was heaven sent.

A 90º day without daddy or water–one that began with a cancelled playdate and more cancelled plans throughout the day, could have turned out much differently. I suppose I might have expected it to. But someone covered our day (and certainly my disposition) today in prayer, and God heard and answered.

I didn’t feel outside of myself like I’ve felt so readily in the heat of pregnancy and summer in recent days. I felt composed and level and far more like the mom and the me I want to be every day–the one that I fall short of more often than I want to admit.

There was peace and grace abundant for our little family today. In the most exasperating moments (sibling squabbles, crazy construction traffic and detours, heat, heat, and more heat, no flushing toilets…) I just felt settled.

The power of my belief in a sovereign God who hears our requests and answers them according to His will is overwhelming in the best way.

Really, there’s no reason why today was so composed and smooth, save that I believe someone (or multiple someones) lifted me up. We can never underestimate the power of our prayers and petitions to God, and we may never know just how they were answered in impacting ways for people we love and care about (or others we’ve never even met).

It’s humbling to serve a Creator who loves us enough to allow us a role in affecting change here on earth.

I am so thankful for today. For the unexpected delights, for time with my sweet girl, for Henry being Henry, and for time to connect with people I love. For living room picnics, nursery dressers, corporate rest time and twirling among antiques, today was unordinary out of ordinary. It was lemonade from lemons and unadulterated grace pouring out and over every crack and crevice and seam.

In the mess of the daily, I sometimes forget how powerful a God we serve. But He is Mighty, and He cares for us.

still twirling a little,

mm

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empty tanks. (59)

It’s well over an hour past bedtime, and the host of shenanigans will not end upstairs tonight. Such is the case with summer daylight and sharing a bedroom, I suppose, but the string of nights where this has been the case feels unceasing. I’ve heard the toilet flush no less than four times in sixty minutes. The littlest has joined me once downstairs. The eldest has gotten dad’s attention outside several times from the upstairs window, and the banter about light sabering each other and who needs which stuffed animal just will. not. end.

I’d be writing about something else tonight entirely, but the running dialogue from daytime has carried itself far later into the evening than is desirable, and all I can hear is the back and forth of kiddos again and again in my ears.

This is the beautiful, trying, hopeful, crazy season of life we’re in.

I wonder frequently to myself about how the new baby will settle into the monkeyish madness of it all. I know third babies are often flexible, go with the flow type personalities who slot right into the current family dynamic, but I don’t want to make assumptions. The first six months with Eloise were some of the most challenging of my life, and for various reasons. Mostly, she and I didn’t sleep for more than a three hour stretch at night, and a good part of our days were spent trying to figure out how to help our little peanut, who was clearly uneasy with life and frequently in pain. She is an incredibly easy going personality now, but I still carry that experience with me. It was terribly hard.

So I think forward to less than two months from now and try to project all of the best possible outcomes while still bracing myself for what I know could also be very tough. I absolutely mean it when I say that I can’t wait to welcome this new babe into our family. I wouldn’t want it any other way. I’m just having a hard time feeling like I enter into much of anything gracefully these days, and I don’t want that to be true of the days surrounding baby’s arrival.

My perfectionist tendencies pour out onto the table right about here.

The third trimester of pregnancy is such a dichotomy, isn’t it? You want to be doing ALL of the things, but circumstances kind of dictate that you actually slow down a bit. Only some of the tasks get done…on a good day. I feel like I need to find a way to settle into that reality peacefully, but in this pregnancy especially, it’s an effort for me to do so.

The other day I shared about getting to my emotional to do list before my physical one. Every bit of what I said is true. I am definitely prioritizing emotional things over physical ones these days, and that feels appropriate. But the nesting, particular, visionary mama in me wishes regularly that all of the lists were dwindling more than they actually are.

I guess you could say my flexibility is in training for the days to come when this baby is no longer tucked away, but out in the world and contributing to our family in whatever ways he or she brings life to the table. That’s probably a good thing.

The unrest upstairs tonight is reflective of my own unrest as I sort through the contents of another toasty summer day packed with plenty to do and more that will be left undone. If I’m recording these days with honesty, then the reality here is exactly this. We’re all tired. We’re all a bit frayed at the edges for various reasons. We’re all excited for baby to come, and probably all a tad emotionally charged because that day is on the horizon.

I need to be filling up my tank with grace each day so I can extend it out to the people I love the most. I haven’t cracked the code on this by any stretch, but I’m going to keep trying.

banking on the highlights of the day today, and looking forward to a fresh start in the morning,

mm