Sunday, January 10, 2010

I am sitting on the couch trying to get some work done.

I had hoped to post pictures, but to no avail.

I had hoped to finish my responsibilities for tomorrow before tomorrow, but to no avail.

I am the mother of a confused child.

For some reason his jet lag is really going strong this evening and he has been awake for the last two hours wailing, screaming, babbling, squealing, and squirming, probably wondering why his parents are so confused and want him to be asleep when he knows he should be awake.

We are taking turns working our magic to no avail.

He is still not asleep.

And as I was sitting here trying to keep working, listening for the cue that it's my turn to go back upstairs so Ian can come down, I couldn't help but be thankful.

I honestly didn't want to mess with this post tonight. I thought I could claim forgetfulness and let it slip. I wasn't thankful for much of anything and was really letting the last two hours taint all the good things that happened today.

And then suddenly, I realized how much I love my son.

How thankful I am that even when he is fussy (whether I know the reason or not), I have the opportunity to stare at his little face, to wonder what is going on in his little mind. I have the opportunity to feel his soft head on my cheek. To feel the weight of his little body in my arms. To feel him nuzzle his face into my chest as he begins to drift off.

I have these privileges. I can hold his hands, rub his feet, kiss his nose, smell his baby scent, and hear all the noises he can make.

I am his mama.

Sometimes I am consumed with the weight of it all. The responsibility of trying to raise a person. Knowing that life is going to punch him in the gut more than once. Knowing that if the Lord allows it, I will grow old, and he will grow up, and he won't need me so much any more.

But even then, I'll still be his mama.

Four months in and I can't read the book "Love You Forever" without crying.

He is still crying. I need to go rescue my sweet husband. I love my baby and God is gracious.

And I am thankful.


  1. i gave my mom that book for christmas! she cried.

    Corrie Church, I miss your family, even the parts I haven't met yet.

  2. Welcome home. Yep, I can't read that book without crying, either. There is an even better one called "God Gave Us You". That one REALLY gets me.

    In my 'back to Scotland' jetlag experience, I'd say that 7pm - 12am time is the hardest because the little ones wake up as if finishing a nap and are not ready for bed. You have 2 options - fight it or roll with it. I've done it both ways and have found that rolling with it is less stressful. He may go to bed at 12am and then 11pm and then 10pm and after 5 or 6 days be back to his normal bedtime. But YOU'RE the mama - and a sweet one at that - so do whaever you think is best :)

    Glad you had a great time in the States. Love to all 3.