I'm done with today

(In Katelyn's room, first thing in the morning, almost every day:)

Mommy: Let me open up your curtains and let some sunshine in!
Katelyn: Wow, Mom! What a beautiful day!
Mommy: Who made this beautiful day?
Katelyn: God did!
Mommy: What do you want to say to Him this morning?
Katelyn: Thank you, God, for the beautiful day!

...

However, this is NOT how I started today. I woke to Jonathan's happy babbling, clanking of toys, etc. When I walked in to get him up, I noted that his diaper had not managed to contain his nighttime pottying, and there was pee all over his crib. After hopping in the shower with both kiddos, I stripped his bed and washed the sheets and toys.

Katelyn had been doing somewhat better with the potty, so when she wanted to wear panties this morning, I agreed. I kept asking her if she had to go (to keep it in the front of her mind), but she kept saying no. Then, one time I asked, she started yelling. Bad sign. She refused to get up off the couch. "Why?" you might ask? She peed on the couch, but of course! After cleaning her up, I scrubbed the couch and threw her wet clothes in the wash.

We went to WinCo to get some groceries, and while we were there, Katelyn said she needed to go potty. So, I dragged both kiddos into the bathroom, got into a stall, cleaned off the toilet seat, and got Katelyn undressed. She then said she didn't need to go. Too bad! I told her to try anyway. No dice. So I went back out, finished shopping, and then went to the car. Katelyn hopped in first and climbed into her carseat while I loaded groceries in the car. Then I carried Jonathan around to put him in his seat. Katelyn was busy taking off her clothes. "Why?" you might ask? She'd peed in the car, but of course! I snagged her wet clothes and prepared to get some fresh ones from the diaper bag.

[Back Story: We'd got out to eat with my family yesterday for lunch at Olivia's. At the end of the meal, they brought two small cartons of chocolate ice cream for the kids. Since both kids needed to get home for their naps, I took the ice cream "to go" and tucked it into the diaper bag.]

I'd forgotten to take the ice cream cartons out of the diaper bag yesterday, and, of course, they'd exploded open in the bag, coating everything. No spare diaper for Katelyn - no change of clothes. She had to ride naked in her carseat all the way home (it's only a few minutes away, but still!) I cleaned up Katelyn, threw her clothes in the wash, and then got to work cleaning out the diaper bag.

I put the kids down for their naps and settled in for a nice relaxing time. Thank God for naptime! Two hours later, I heard Jonathan waking up. When I opened his door, I smelled the inevitable afternoon poopy diaper. What I wasn't expecting was that, as he was wearing pants and a shirt instead of a onesie or a sleeper, he'd gotten into his poopy diaper and proceeded to spread poo EVERYWHERE! It was in his hair, on his face, on his books and toys, all up and down the sides of the crib... I wanted to cry, but chose instead to pick him upand carry him directly to the shower. We both got in, fully clothed, and showered off. After I'd washed off both of us completely, I stepped out and left him to play in the shower while I sanitized everything in his room. One more load in the washer, and I'm DONE.

So, that's why I'm done with today!

Baby Weight

Okay, so I know this sounds like I'm going to go into a long discussion of the extra pounds I've added since my two little ones joined the scene.

I'm not.

That's another discussion for another day.

Today, I'm going to talk about one of my most favorite things in the whole world: the feeling of my baby's entire weight resting on me. I don't think I can adequately give words to describe this feeling, but I'm sure some of you out there know what I mean.

Jonathan has been having a stuffy nose just about every night for the past week or so. This causes him to wake up 2-3 times between bedtime (7:30pm) and midnight to sit up and cry a little to clear the breathing passageways. I could probably just let him do that and he'd lay back down and go back to sleep on his own, but then I'd miss out on the whole subject of this blog!

Instead, I creep into his room (trying to let as little light in as possible), grab a pacifier and then lift my little guy up into my arms and slouch down into the rocking chair. I say slouch, because, to fully enjoy this event you can't really sit up straight. I lean back as much as possible and lay my boy onto my chest, tucking his little legs up and leaving one arm beneath his bottom to support him. The other hand is then free to gently rub his back or run my fingers through his baby curls. He automatically turns his head to one side, tucks one arm under him and (oh, so sweet!) grabs a handful of my shirt and doesn't let go.

Now, he stopped crying as soon as I picked him up (what a joy to so easily stop his tears!), but he was still somewhat awake when I first sat down. After a minute or two, he's completely out again and here comes the main event: the whole of my tiny little guy's weight resting on me. The trust implied there - he knows I won't drop him! - the peace and security he feels knowing his mommy is holding him. Each breath I take lifts him up and down, up and down...

I have no words, really, to say what I mean, but I treasure those moments! I feel like I could stay there forever. What a blessing, what an amazing gift God has given to me - entrusting me with the care of this little one! Feeling his weight on me reminds me again of the privilege and responsibility God gives us in our children, and I'm so grateful for each one.