Micah Man

Oh my Micah Man!  How we love you.  I would say that four months has gone quickly but that would be a lie.  There have been days and nights, little man, that have felt like years.  But, oh, how we love you.

Here is what we know about you so far.  You love a face.  You love to look at faces, to talk to faces, and smile at faces.  You do not like to be left alone, ever.  You love your brothers, especially that big one who carries you around.  You hate tummy time and are content to lounge on your back (just so long as a face is close by).

You smile with your whole face.  You have deliciously chubby legs that make Mommy say silly things and tickle you.  You are ticklish on your cheeks and neck.  We will all do the most ridiculous things to hear your little giggle.

You do not like naps, unless Mommy holds you.  (We are currently working on breaking that one.)  You do not like bedtime, but have mostly fixed that one too.

You are the exact same size in almost every category that Daniel was at this age.  You seem bigger to me though.  We haven't tried solids yet but will after our vacation to the Milbauer Resort.  (You are going to love them as much as the rest of us do.)

Here are a few shots that your beautiful Auntie Sara took so we can all remember you at 4 months.  You were really loving her face; you gave her all your good smiles.

On Not Despairing

  I will no despair; God is in control...God is always good...God is always watching...God is always with me. 

I had reason to slip into despair last week.  Chris headed off on Wednesday early morning for his yearly FCA Endurance board retreat in sunny San Diego.  On Monday, Daniel woke up barking like a seal.  By Tuesday night I knew things were going to get ugly.  A fever seized him and he could not shake it.  He spent two days on the couch before I finally called the doctor. 

Four nights of no sleep and then Micah started throwing up.  A lot.  I had spitty babies with the older two so I knew this was not run of the mill spitting up.  This was full on clearing-out-the-contents-of-the-stomach throwing up.  Only, I didn't put it together right away because Daniel was so sick.  And I was all alone in my parenting. 

Except I am never alone.  One night I saw every hour tick by on the clock as I bounced between Daniel and Micah.  And I called out.  I knew as long as I was awake I needed to make the most of it.  So I prayed and begged for relief.

He sent it.  Her name is Ashley (I love Ashley's; I have a step-sister who makes me smile.  She is an Ashley).  She needed a place to stay while visiting her boyfriend (now fiance) and we have an extra room and heart to use it to serve.  She watched the older three on Saturday so I could get groceries.  She snuggled Micah right to sleep so I could snuggle Daniel and fold the fifteenth load of laundry I had done that week.  She colored with the big boys and listened to their stories and even watched a super hero movie with them.

God is good and in control and watching and always with me.  Sometimes He sends a reminder in the form of a beautiful young woman.

And I thank Him.

Acceptance

I have come to accept my role as the sole woman in the Anderson house on Elm Street.  I have come to accept that cleaning yellow stains off the bathroom floor will be my plight for a few more years.  I have come to accept that any conversation about bodily functions will produce much laughter.  I have come to accept that any movie with a superhero will be watched with awe while any movie with a princess will be watched with yawns and groans.

I have come to accept that I will step on Legos.  I have come to accept that any sort of ball will be thrown in the house.  I have come to accept that wrestling will teeter on boxing. 

I have come to accept the ridiculous questions people will ask about the size of our family.  And how busy we are.  And how loud we are. 

I have come to accept that these boys have stolen my heart and will likely break it one day (like when they leave the house for good or bring home a girl for me to meet).  I have come to accept that sleeping through the night is probably not going to happen for many, many years. I have come to accept that all I can really do for them is pray like a warrior doing battle.

Conversation with a Two-Year Old

The scene:  Target, Friday morning, women's clothing

Daniel:  I scared

Mom:  Of what, buddy?

Daniel:  Jesus 

            (cue woman in next aisle to begin laughing)

Mom:  Why are you scared of Jesus?

Daniel:  Jesus died on the cross

           (cue woman in next aisle to turn red with laughing)

Mom:  He did do that.  He loves you, Daniel.

Daniel:  Noooo, Jesus no love me

           ( cue woman to possibly wet herself)

Mom:  Yes, Jesus does love you

Daniel:  (singing)  The Bible tell me so.

Parenting Me

Chris was gone for the better part of a week recently.  That means a giant spotlight shines on my parenting inadequacies.  In the midst of a particularly challenging moment I was nearly brought to tears.  The Lord whispered in my ear, "He is just like you as a child."

And he is.

Just like me.

Hiding during chores, waiting for others to do what he can clearly do himself, so concerned about what others are doing and thinking and saying that he cannot possibly get his own work done, speaking without thinking, lashing out in anger, crying in frustration, lying to save himself from trouble, leaving his things strewn about, distracted so easily he cannot get ready for school in the morning without ten reminders...

And that scares me tremendously.

I perhaps turned out "okay" (the jury is still out on that) but that is only by a miracle.  I cannot expect two such miracles in my lifetime. Can I?

So I pray.  Fiercely calling on God to rescue him from himself.  To protect him from himself.  To equip me to mother a child who is so like me that I get frustrated and angry.  I give him a fullness of grace that overshadows all the other things. A heart that strives to please God, and God alone.