Growing Up Before Our Eyes

We seem to be in one of those 'blink and you've missed it' sort of phases. The kids are just changing so fast.

SP is:

• choosing to have the door open in rest time and actually staying in his room
• making 'Mite sandwiches (almost) independently
• finally showing more interest in drawing and painting
• pegging washing on his own line
• and doing a great job of toilet training.

F is:

• settling herself for naps, and sleeping longer
• feeding faster, and starting solids
• chatting and interacting more
• staying awake through a shorter evening feed instead of 'feed-feed-feed-feed-feed-totally asleep' - this is a big one that makes me wonder where my baby has gone
• and (for now at least) sleeping through the night :)

Foam Pump

My mother-in-law has one of these. 

Next Robins Kitchen sale, I'm there. 

Chance Meeting

F had a paediatrician appointment today. All clear again. Praise God. 

We popped in to see my old work colleagues while we were there. We shared the lift with a food trolley, and I was fondly remembering hospital lunches (no complaints about the food from me!) when I realised it was being escorted by MY food services lady. She brought me 3 meals and 2 snacks, 5 days a week, for the 3 weeks I was in the antenatal unit. We hadn't exactly exchanged life stories in that time, but she knew enough to be very relieved at F's good health and cheeky smile. 

It was lovely to see her. 

A Poem

As an only child, I was quite unsure about how the whole two child dynamic would work. And there's much more to figure out, I'm sure. But I came across this today (in the comments of this post), and it's exactly how I feel watching SP & F love each other. 

LOVING TWO

I walk along holding your 2-year-old hand, basking in the glow of our magical relationship.
Suddenly I feel a kick from within, as if to remind me that our time alone is limited.
And I wonder, how could I love another child as I love you?

Then she is born, and I watch you.
I watch as the pain you feel at having to share me as you have never shared me before.

I hear you telling me in your own way, “Please love only me” and I hear myself telling you in mine “I can’t”.
Knowing in fact that I never can again.
You cry, I cry with you.
I almost see our baby as an intruder on the precious relationship we once shared.
A relationship we can never have again.

But then, barely noticing, I find myself attached to that new being, and feeling almost guilty.
I’m afraid to let you see me enjoying her — as though I am betraying you.
But then I notice your resentment change, first to curiosity, then to protectiveness, finally to genuine affection.

More days pass, and we are settling into a new routine.
The memory of days with just the two of us is fading fast.
But something is replacing those wonderful times we shared, just us two.
There are new times — only now we are three.
I watch the love between you grow, the way you look at each other, touch each other.

I watch how she adores you, as I have for so long.
I see how excited you are by each of her new accomplishments.
I begin to realize that I haven’t taken something from you, I’ve given something to you.
I notice that I am no longer afraid to share my love openly with both of you.
I find that my love for each of you is as different as you are, but equally strong.
And my question is finally answered to my amazement.
Yes, I can love another child as much as I love you, only differently.

And although I realize that you may have to share my time, I know you’ll never share my love.
There’s enough of that for both of you — you each have your own supply.

I love you both and I thank you both for blessing my life.

—Author Unknown

Lasting examples

The other night we'd finished dinner and were in the middle of the daily "toy hunting" ritual prior to bathtime.  I come back into the lounge room and SP is sitting there on the couch with a ring of cushions around him, though also with a noticeable gap.


I asked if I could sit down and he pointed at the spot beside him in the cushion ring.  Without any prompting he then looks me square in the face and says very matter-of-factly "now it's time to talk.  What was your high low and interesting today daddy?"


He's seen Petrina and me doing high/low/interesting over dinner countless times, but never seemed to be all that keen on it - partly I guess because the "low" would mean remembering something that didn't make him happy.  But it turns out that he was taking it all in, and he's getting the idea that talking about things is important.  And that's encouraging when I think about all the other lessons we'd like him to take in right now.

Encouraging article

http://www.desiringgod.org/blog/posts/how-eternity-shapes-our-mundane

The bit about putting more faith in the nap than in the never-changing gospel? I am so guilty of that today. But God uses even my few minutes of procrastinatory computer time to encourage me.  

A trip to the slow lane

After church on Friday, we headed off to spend a night with Dave's grandfather, about 4 hours away. It was great to see him, and for him to meet F. The way they took to each other was just amazing; it was beautiful to watch. A great-grandchild must be a very special thing to experience.

As maths would tell you, Grandad is getting on a bit. He's 92. He still lives at home, cooks for himself, feeds his birds. But he moves very slowly. Despite my occasional antsy feelings while we were there, it's been good for me to slow down for a while. To see his example of a life lived quietly and patiently to the glory of God.

Show photos

I love hand-me-downs

I just broke out the space bag of size 3s that we were given a couple of years ago, when size 3 seemed so far away. Between that and a bag given to us by another friend a couple of weeks ago, it looks like SP's winter wardrobe is totally taken care of. I know Dave will love the flight jacket, and my mum will love the Ireland shirt. 

And it's almost time to dig into the 2 big bags of 00 for F... little ones grow so fast!

We are so blessed by our wonderful and generous family and friends. 

Anybody want to receive the size 2 winter stuff for their boy this year?

March in pictures

Show photos

I've already taken a few cute ones for next month's post, so stay tuned...

More on encouragement

We've all been getting some encouragement recently.  On Saturday, as well as having the most social engagements I've had in a single day since, well, ever, I had two very encouraging encounters.


The first was a "Blokes Brekkie" at church.  Everything you'd expect: lots of protein, fresh coffee, good times.  It wasn't a big deal, I think it was only announced 4 or 5 days ahead, but we still had over a dozen men of various ages there.  And the encouragement?  Andrew reminded us that one of the disciplines of a godly man is to maintain friendships with other men, that it's something worth working at.  There's talk of more of these brekkies in the future.  We had a crash course in making real coffee this time, and afterwards were kicking around ideas for other "show and tells" - like getting one of the guys to give an intro on graphic design.  I think it'll be a while before I'm asked to talk on Maxwell's equations...


The second was spending a couple of hours at a coffee shop down the road catching up with a good friend of mine.  Although we live in different cities now and we've both got young families, it was a perfect example of that sort of relationship where even if you haven't seen each other for 12 months, you can sit down and pick up where you left off like it was only yesterday.  Great stuff.

Encouraged

I was reading James 5 this morning, and was struck by verses 13-15. 

As I was reading, I realised that I'd been feeling like I let F down by my inability to spend hours in prayer for her when she was so sick. I did a lot of little 'God, help us!' prayers, but anything deeper than that just seemed to be beyond me. 

But so many others prayed for her, and for all of us. And it still blows me away that God chose to heal her physically. 

So thank you all for praying in faith. 

Yes, I am a hypocrite

I'm always in favour of being real with each other at church, not pretending we're perfect, etc, etc, etc. 

But when I'm having a hard morning at church, I go and hide in the toilet and cry instead of telling any of my friends that I'm struggling. 

Life just feels really hard at the moment. We're busy. We're all tired. SP had to be carried screaming out of church 3 (or was it 4?) times this morning. I'm jealous any time anybody talks about doing anything discretionary (You've been reading a book? Not fair!) which is totally ridiculous, because I've been sitting on the internet for at least half an hour. I feel like I'm working at capacity but there's so much every day that goes undone. 

Sigh. It's just a season. It's just a season. It's just a season. It's just a season. 

By the way, things are looking a bit brighter now. I've had a sleep, Dave & SP are happily playing lego, and F has been asleep for 3 hours. Evidently she realised she had some catching up to do.