It’s a girl!

Just popping in to say…we have a baby!  Our new addition was born Wednesday, Sept.12 at 11:54 pm.  It was a fast labor and delivery, and she was born at a healthy 7 lbs 11 oz.  We were both doing so well that we came home from the hospital Thursday evening, though my mother-in-law stayed to help out till Friday night.  I was so thankful for how it all worked out so well with our younger kids…originally the plan was to take them to the hospital with us when I was in labor and have A.’s mom meet us there, but as it turned out I knew I was in early labor already on Wednesday afternoon so she had time to come to our house instead.  That was a much better plan and so much less stressful for the kids – thanks God!

So far things are going well – it certainly is busy with three little ones, but other than being tired I am coping ok. I am learning to manage my time very precisely, and not waste a minute of precious “downtime” when all of them are sleeping or otherwise occupied.  I need to co-ordinate in advance just to get the dishes done or a load of laundry washed – everything takes so much planning!   I know it will get easier, because I remember feeling this same way when my second baby was born – but for now it’s all about juggling everyone’s routines!   I hope I can keep this up.

That’s all for now…I’m going to go rest for a while.  I’ll try to write again soon.

Who’s Jesus? (in ten words or less)

This Sunday at church, our 3-yr-old was eagerly waiting for the offering basket to be passed by so that he could put in “his” money.  This is our weekly tradition and, I think, his favorite part of sitting in the service with us.  I handed him a loonie and said, “Here, you can put this in the offering for Jesus.”

He turned around and excitedly scrutinized the usher holding the offering basket.  “Is that Jesus?”

Of course we laughed, and I told him No, Jesus is in heaven.  But I was struck by the inadequacy of this reply.  I felt like I ought to explain, to say that Jesus is always with us, that he’s in our hearts, but we can’t see him.  Something like this I did add, but it all seemed ridiculous from the concrete perspective of my son.  How can he be in heaven, and with us, and in our hearts (and what’s a heart, anyways?) all at the same time?

Now that he is starting to get to the age of asking questions about God and church, I am struggling with how to explain anything at all about the Bible and what we believe.  It seems inevitable, no matter how much explaining I do, that for several years to come his perception of who God is will be skewed, reduced to an important person whom we like to sing to a lot but never get to see.  I don’t want him to think that God is far away, but I don’t know how to make him understand his presence.   I want him to love God and trust him, but how does that look in real life when you’re 3?

Can anybody tell me how to explain Jesus in 10 words or less?

(BTW – No baby yet. Still waiting)

Number 3

I can’t believe we’re really going to have 3 kids.

This fact really struck home about two weeks ago when Number 3 started kicking.  I felt that tiny little “pop” in my abdomen, and the first thing I thought was “Oh, man. It’s for real.  This is going to be a living, breathing, crying, needy person in only a few short months.  I’m not ready for this.”  Not in those exact words, but you get the picture.

Of course I know that the baby is already a living and needy little person and has been for some time…but up till now a rather quiet and invisible one.  It didn’t seem real until that first little poke.  “Hello, Mommy, here I am.  Growing and stretching and getting anxious to come out.  What’s going on out there?” As happy as I am that my son and daughter will have another little brother or sister to play with, I have to admit to feelings of ambivalence about shouldering the responsibility of another human being.  I am afraid that I am not a good enough mom to two, and that I ought to get that right before aspiring to parent three.  Doesn’t that seem reasonable?

This motherhood business is hard work.  Although I have gotten somewhat used to the never-ending-ness of it all, the constant cycle of feeding, dressing, washing, feeding, playing, disciplining, feeding, reading, comforting, feeding, etc. (did I mention feeding?) - I know that my attitude about it is not always what it should be.  Sometimes I am angry at my children for needing so much from me.  On bad days, when my three-year old screams at me and throws things and generally behaves like an untrained ape, I am afraid that maybe I don’t love him as much as a mother should.  And when my 1-year old wakes up at 5:30 am for weeks in a row, I wonder how cruel it is if I just leave her in her playpen and go back to sleep for another hour.  Adding another little person’s needs and problems and idiosyncrasies to this family scares me.  I don’t know if I can handle it.  In my own strength, in fact, I know for certain that I can’t.

But I also know that motherhood is where God wants me right now.  That he can equip me for every good work, including this impossible one of raising children.  That he is strong, and in control, and loving, and an ever-present help.  That although I am not perfect, and never will be, he will get both me and my children through this difficult stage and we will all be the better for it.  That it is not all my responsibility, or my husband’s, but that we share only the tiniest part of the burden of caring for our children, and that God is their true Father and the one who holds their lives in his hand.  He is their provider and ours, their protection and ours, their strength and ours.  I am a worker in the vineyard, but not the owner, and so I know that my responsibility is not too great to bear.

I know all this…now to put it into practice.  When I meet my beautiful Number 3 in a few months, I will choose not be afraid.  I will trust the Owner. 

I need to frame this

I have run across this poem on a few sites, most recently at Adventures in Babywearing, and I love it so much that I’m going to post it here, too.  It really reminds me to keep my priorities straight, and that spending time playing with the kids is more important than anything else I do during the course of the day.

Mother, O Mother, come shake out your cloth,

Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,

Hang out the washing, make up the bed,

Sew on a button and butter the bread.

 

Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?

She’s up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.

 

Oh, I’ve grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue,

Lullabye, rockabye, lullabye loo.

Dishes are waiting and bills are past due

Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo

 

The shopping’s not done and there’s nothing for stew

And out in the yard there’s a hullabaloo

But I’m playing Kanga and this is my Roo

Look! Aren’t his eyes the most wonderful hue?

Lullabye, rockaby lullabye loo.

 

The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow

But children grow up as I’ve learned to my sorrow.

So quiet down cobwebs; Dust go to sleep!

I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.

 

- Ruth Hulbert Hamilton