Getting Rid of the Crib

I have baby clothes hanging to dry in the basement.  I'm passing them on to my sister's new baby girl who arrived at Christmas.  

Opening the totes of little dresses, I'm thrown into thoughts of sweet babies.

The Mr. and I have been on the topic for awhile now.  Nearly every week someone asks us if we are "done".  I think this is the stage of life where people are having the conversation.  Many of our peers are getting rid of the cribs.  When it comes up, I've heard it said, "Oh, yeah, we're done...we've gotten rid of the crib."  As if getting rid of the crib makes it concrete/irreversible/permanent.  Maybe it is the symbol.

Well, we don't have a crib.  But that certainly wouldn't stop me.

My husband tells me that once you have 3 kids you're at a level where 4 doesn't really seem like much more.  I'm not sure I'm convinced but I do love his optimism [usually].  

I'm 35 and my husband is 38.  The other day someone said that I'm nearly 40.  My husband, maybe, but me, no.  I'm closer to 30 than 40.  

With our three kids...I could picture another child.  This time I can't quite visualize baby #4.  It's quite foggy.  

I'm not ready to say we are done.  I'm also not ready to jump off the cliff.  

Then the next question...Biological?  Adoption?  People sometimes say, adoption must be easier. Pregnancy and childbirth [read about our firstborn's birth here] were challenging but, in some ways, adoption was even more.  

We'd be more likely to adopt again than get pregnant.  I'm not sure it will ever happen but I can't bring myself to say it's all over.  Let's just stay in limbo awhile longer.  

Linking up with Just Write.

a little girl

I read these sweet song lyrics today.  True and worth remembering.  

Her mama bought her a hopechest
To keep her dreams inside
All the precious memories
Little things she's like to hide
A magic wand, an old rag doll
Some plastic pearls 'cause after all

A little girl is only a little girl so long
And tender hearts need their stars to wish upon
'Cause one day you will turn around and she'll be gone
A little girl is only a little girl so long

One day when she got home from school
She slipped a little note 
Beneath the tattered lining
And here is what he wrote
"Roses are red, violets are blue" 
"Put an X in the box if you like me too"
A little girl is only a little girl so long
And tender hearts need their stars to wish upon
'Cause one day you will turn around and she'll be gone
A little girl is only a little girl so long

They married in the garden on a perfect July day
In a horse and carriage they waved and rode away
Mama went inside to put away her wedding dress
And spotted a letter lying on the old hopechest

It said...

A little girl is only a little girl so long
Your lonely heart might need a star to wish upon
So look inside once in a while to bring the memories home
A little girl is only a little girl
And I will always be your little girl
So long...

~S. Bentley~

to Luna

Praise be, the UPS man arrived today, unexpectedly, with the repaired camera [I've missed it over the last four months]!  Grace and Jude were at school but I snapped a few of our Addie girl [now 2 1/2 years old].  

We've been spending a lot of time together....her and I.  We had a guest pastor in town a week ago and he used the phrase "blue sky days" and reminded us to treasure them.  I do.   

I need God's help to be the mother each of my kids need.  Every day seems to bring something new.  There are good days and then there are...other days.

Today Addie ran into her bedroom door.  I heard her scream and I knew is was the "she's hurt" cry.  I ran to her and she ran away from me.  She was desperate for her blanket, which she grabbed, started sucking her finger and laid on the floor.  It reminded me of how she learned to soothe herself.  I noted how different that response was from my older two [biological kids] who would run to me when they were hurt. 

She's still learning what it's like to have a mother.   A mother who responds when she cries.  A mother who touches her.  Today I was struck with the reality of children who cry and no one responds.  Babies who are not receiving the touch of a mother, or a caregiver.  

Addie is on and off with me.  She is on and off in life, with a quick switch from sweet to blazing mad.   

She's smart as a whip.  I tell her "I love you to the moon" and she replies..."No, to LUNA".  This is a result of her obsession with her Spanish speaking tv-friends, Diego and Dora.  She is also great at giving me compliments when she is in trouble.  She'll say things like "I like it when you smile" or "You have pretty hair, mama".  

And a few minutes later she'll throw a fit because I put her drink in the wrong colored cup.  Or because I turned off Diego.  And I tell her I love her everyday.  And I do.  All the way to Luna.  

God is here

I'm not sure what God is doing.  I saw things playing out quite differently.  

Asking God what He is doing scares me.  Am I ready for the answer?

It's not clear to me.  It feels like walking down a dark hallway.  God is patient with me.  He says..."It's ok your heart is pounding fast and you don't know where we are going.  Shhh.  Take My hand.  Trust me.  I'll take good care of you."  

On Saturday, thoughts were buzzing around in my head, me trying to sort it out and internally I said..."God, talk to me, here."  

Quieting my heart, I picked up a little Bible and opened it to Psalm 20 and read this...  

"That clinches it- help's coming, an answer's on the way, everything's going to work out." [Psalm 20:6, msg]

He is here.  I'm letting go and holding on.