Two gifts today - We're celebrating Little Duck's second birthday today and his brother, Little Papoose, will be here tomorrow. And what gifts they are.
With that, both Hannah and I have been doing some hard-core reflecting and musing while sitting over mugs of tea (I am so very fortunate to be home with her in these last few days before Little Papoose's arrival). I dedicate a little poem to Little Duck and Hannah reflects on the last few days of her pregnancy. We are blessed.
Much love to you, dear friends.
An Ode to A 2-Year-Old Birthday Boy
You can't figure out why we're making a fuss
but you're delighted nonetheless
when we sing "Happy Birthday" to you at each meal
You cover your mouth and laugh
And you blow out a tea light candle because
even though we've been to the grocery store
we can't seem to remember to buy actual
(you don't seem to mind).
You smell of strawberries, honey, and finger paints
And brow furrowed with a concerned frown, you said, "Mess,"
when painting at the table today.
The day has been blustery and cool
but we bundled you up
and went outside for a little while
long enough for you to pick
a beautiful little daffodil for your mamma
while Tug ran circles around us.
This is your last day as the only one,
the only little boy in our family.
Tomorrow brings your baby brother
and we are fortunate that hearts can fit
Happy Birthday, Little Duck. We love you to the ends of the earth.
Last night - between bathroom runs which turned my night into a mini-series with frequent “commercial breaks,” thank you pregnancy for all your weirdness - I had several vivid dreams. In one I discovered monkeys (does it bother anyone else this word isn't spelled monkies???) could pick padlocks with their tails. In another, one of my former co-workers became an MMA fighter and she was awesome at it. Yet another had me immersed in the world of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse with only ABCs cereal at my disposal.
Suffice it to say that lugging another assumed-to-be 10 pound baby around for almost 9 months has taken a toll on my sleeping patterns. Into the single digits on our countdown now though. I shall prevail!
So this morning as I sit watching the morning light warming outside my kitchen windows I find myself mulling over the only other mini-dream I remember from last night. It was like an old silent film; no sound, only starkly contrasting black and white picture. Logan was on our porch swing (handmade by my husband for me for our third anniversary) holding something swaddled in a beautiful old quilt and whispering to it. I could not see the something’s face and didn’t have the ability to move in for a look, but I knew without a whisper of a doubt it was his little brother. While it pained me to be unable to peek at that sweet face, it was captivating to watch the scene. It makes me imagine what’s to come.
With Logan everyone asked, “How do you think Tug is going to do with the baby?”, “How are you getting Tug ready for the baby?”, “Do you think Tug will hurt the baby?” This time it’s all about Logan (apparently Tug passed with flying colors and is beyond questioning this time). “Do you think he knows?”, “Do you think he’s going to try to hurt him?”, “How are you preparing him for a little brother?”
How are we going to handle this monumental life change for our family? I am chalking it up to the faith I’ve learned to have in a plan that is higher than my reach. With Tug and Logan we took things as they came because we didn’t have a clue what else to do. We were in survival mode. This time we are going to take things as they come because we’re learning that’s the truest way to live. We do our best to live for today. To bring with us from Yesterday two things: lessons learned and pleasant memories. To lay everything else to rest at the end of each day. We roll with the punches and soak up the good stuff. One day at a time.
So Logan worms his way onto your lap and demands a hug? You hug back and close your eyes hard and beg your memory to keep it for always. He has a tantrum while at a friend’s house and you wish you had a Men In Black style pen to erase their memory of it? You deal with the immediate situation and then you let it go. Tug knocks him over in a rush to get out the door? You react as appropriately as you can and move on. He curls up with her on the floor when bedtime is fifteen minutes away and sleepily plays with her ear until you tell him it’s time to clean up? You stop what you’re doing and stare. Can’t plan those things, my friend. Just can’t.
Faith. As a family, we’re letting it guide us.
Sites I Dig
The Road is Home
The Seed & Plate
Sharon Covert Photography
The Define School
The Noisy Plume
Sarah Gee Photography
Fox & Owl Studio
The Stork and The Beanstalk
Mellow Yellow Photography
A Simple Little Journal
What I've Been Reading
The Girls by Emma Cline
A Land More Kind Than Home by Wiley Cash
Dark Places by Gillian Flynn
Never Broken by Jewel
Hold Still by Sally Mann