Sipping my lukewarm morning coffee, I hoped that if there was a smidge of caffeine in my cup of decaf that it would make it's way through my veins and wake me up.
I don't wish these days away, but the day when I have two children sleeping through the night will be a glorious day.
But watching my two little punkin boys reminds me of the sweet season we are in. Jude not-so-gently grabbing Isaac by the face to lay a smacker right on him. Isaac squealing with delight as he watches his brother run through the house flapping his arms like a duck. Jude's vocabulary growing by the minute and his complete joy when we affirm what he's said. Isaac just being a 4-month-old.
I think four months old is one of my very favorite ages. I'm not entirely surprised I (whoops!) allowed myself to get pregnant when Jude was just six months old. I adore the baby stage. Absolutely adore it. But those babies turn into toddlers (who I LOVE) that begin to exercise their will and demands and this combination of baby-not-sleeping-through-the-night and my toddler-risk-taker-wild-man-testing-the-boundaries is what leaves me feeling run into the ground this morning.
And don't worry. I'm fully aware that my body needs a break from being pregnant and I don't plan to have any sort of announcement in the next year (or so).
I sip my coffee slower. Taking the moment in. Watching my boys interact and remembering how desperate I was for them only a few years earlier. God is good. And I am challenged to take my mornings slower. We have places to go, people to see. But I want my boys to remember me as someone who was always present with them. Fully present. Not zoned out on my phone (guilty). Not too much of a zombie to listen to what they're telling me (guilty). But slowing down. Looking them in the eye. Being there.
I do hate being rushed, but I'm so often the one doing the rushing.
Thank you Lord for my sweet children. For mornings I can sip my coffee. For moments you sustain me so I can give enough.
Linking up with Just Write.
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