excuse me whilst I sort some things out
My God does not speak to me in neon. There have never been any signs or writing in the sky. No ‘hallelujah moments’ with angels singing and clouds parting. I have battled uncomfortableness all my life. Uncomfortable in crowds. Uncomfortable in my skin. Uncomfortable falling asleep with my brain constantly racing. For me, God speaks in the quiet. When things feel good, when calm prevails, when there is no hesitancy, this is my go-ahead. This is my Yes.
We were so ready, so happy for Gideon to be born. It was a very natural, normal progression into a family of four. It felt right, and that’s all I needed for affirmation. I did not worry about having enough love for two children or enough money or enough time. I knew that it would work out… bumps, bruises, and all.
There have been lots of bump and bruises.
Gideon is past 2 weeks now and over his birth weight. I assume this means he is eating. This is really my first time nursing and it’s been hard to get used to ‘just knowing’ when they’re full. If his diapers are any indication, the kid is eating too much. We change a diaper about every 30 minutes. My hand to Heaven. It’s amazing how different kids can be. I have really struggled not to compare, but it’s impossible when you have only one other experience to draw on.
Ry slept. Gus doesn’t.
Gus eats. Ry didn’t.
Ry went straight to a 3 hour schedule. Gus eats forever and then sleeps forever, or doesn’t. And then, starts all over again. Except, when he doesn’t.
Ry was calm and still. Gus is crazy mover throw yourself off the couch kid.
Ry was quiet. Gus’ screams can empty Target on a busy day.
Gus loves to be held. Ry was fine to watch the world from her own seat.
I expected him to cry in the car, but I was unprepared for how upset it would make Rylie. Now that I think about it, though, sure. Why wouldn’t a screaming baby sitting right next to you for 45 minutes stress out a 3 year-old who has trouble with loud sounds? [photo: Ry covering her ears in the car] I may be able to tune it out, but she simply cannot. SuperKid is stinkin’ L O U D. He just is, well, fussy. Ry was not fussy. She was a little more fun to be around, honestly.
Ry has been an amazing sport abut all this baby stuff, but it’s certainly been an adjustment. We rally from tantrums and discipline to hug fests and back again on an hourly basis. And, no matter how rough our mornings are (and people, they’re baaad), she is always happy to see me when I pick her up from pre-school. I am continually amazed at a child’s ability to spring back. When do we lose that? When do we start holding on to grudges and pain? I am so thankful she is managing… and has forgotten about yesterday… or this morning, for pete’s sake.She’s getting quite a few more cookies these days, but sometimes you need to buy peace.
So, we’re emotional around here… loving a new kid, loving an older kid, missing out on regular life, celebrating Spring, trying to get Ry to talk to us, watching the cows, changing diapers, rocking and walking and soothing. And crying. There’s lots of crying. We are trying to figure out a rhythm. God bless the comfort that comes in knowing [and repeating repeating repeating] THIS TOO SHALL PASS. God bless the sweet, quiet, calm times that deflate the defeat and frustration.
I am clinging to the previous signs of peace. I know this kid, this warrior, is meant to be here. It will work out. Bumps, bruises, and all.
[this dang post is just all over the place… it’s not coming out right… I blame this on A&M and Baylor losing]