These months of moving insanity have flown by, and they don't seem to hold much promise towards slowing down anytime soon. I think that's okay, though. I'm finding my place of calm and peace in the midst of everything, learning to be content, to trust, spending less hours lying awake in the dark worrying over everything yet having no power to change any of it.
Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? - Matthew 6:27
Our October was good. Proper entries - complete with pictures and everything! - will follow, but for now a summary will do.
We have played. We visited a farm, spent hours petting the goats, and revisited it in our imagination every day since. "Goodbye Mom, I going to the farm! I love you! I need a kiss!"
We have baked. Bread, zucchini muffins, carrot muffins, banana muffins, pumpkin cookies, shortbread cookies shaped like trains and people - yes, we have baked. A new creation every week, faces streaked with flour, fingers sneaking into delicious batter just one more time.
We have created. Knitting needles broken out once again, warm yarn to ward off cool weather. One diaper wrap finished for the new baby, a pair of cozy pants for the big one, a scarf that I may or may not give as a Christmas gift, and now a second diaper cover on the needles for the little one.
We have learned. When you know the child is having a rare off day...cancel the playdate. Dear Lord, just cancel it.
We have cuddled. So many rainy weeks, driving us to spend long days under the covers, noses together, whispering those wonderful conversations of a two year old. Cars driving over the "roads" on the quilt. Books piled all around us, new treasures from the library each week.
We have waited. No, darling, not yet. The baby still needs time to grow. Every day, shirt pulled up over swelling belly, toddler fingers rubbing baby, patting, poking - gently, honey - accompanied by excited streams of plans, questions, speculations, and general baby-related chatter. Just six more weeks...
We have explored. Stretching our boundaries further, seeking new friends in this sprawling city, walking in the rain, jumping in the puddles, falling in the mud, chasing the birds and squirrels, praising God for his marvelous creations, rejoicing in each new day.
We have thanked. Every night falling asleep with gratefulness in our hearts after praying our thanks to God. I love the things he chooses to say thank you for - cats, his bed, music, our house, his cars, baby, Daddy, Opa. Every night a new surprise as I learn more of what is on his mind and in his heart.
We have laughed. His imagination and joyful chatter never fail to leave us in fits of giggles. Recounting them later to my husband brings a second wave of laughter.
We have cried. Some days it feels like too much. The worry, the sleeplessness, the daily trials - those are the days I cry. And sometimes those are the days he cries too, snapped at over such tiny little things, spoken harshly to when what he truly needed was a hug.
We have apologized - and forgiven. Ashamed, humbled, I confess my wrongs to him (and to Him). And he forgives me (as does He) - always, without hesitation. If only I were so quick to let go of my own hurt. I hug him and he hugs me back, whispered words of sorrow and comfort. I was sad, Mommy. (My heart breaks.) I know, darling, and I'm so sorry. I was wrong.
We have loved. There is nothing like the spontaneous "I love you, Mommy" of a child. Nothing like his compassion, offering kisses to fix hurts, wrapping small arms around my neck so tightly.
It was a full month. A good month. Hard, but good.
It is so good to be home.