In the course of one week Asher turned five, we sold his buggy and he started primary school. It's fair enough to say I'm suffering a wee bit of parental whiplash, though I have to admit: I'm not all that sad.
Read moreOn being done, the sequel
On Sunday night I laid down next to him and cried. It was such a small thing, really, but to me it was the world shifting. Life as I know it, my life, mother-of-babies life, is over.
Tomorrow, I thought, tomorrow will be a new one, and I never even mastered the old one.
He was on his side and I was on mine, and I tried whispering I love you one last time before the baby left and boy began, but I got no reply. And I cried saying goodbye to this era, to the babies, to the rocking chairs and the nursing hours.
Read moreThe one who came last
Some days you sit in a car with a sleeping child because this is the only moment of peace in your day. He is a blur, in pictures and in your mind, so that when he is stilled - peach lips parted, chest gently rising, not even a sound escaping - you don't dare move for fear of missing it.
Read moreOn being done, but still holding on
So it turns out, I don't mind it all that much. Every night his chubby hand reaches for mine and he asks, "You lay down by me?" We've both settled into it nicely, now. And even though the sky is still bright as the days linger longer, we lay down. A few books between us, cars and trucks jumbled in blankets. I lay down by him and he turns to his side, snoring. Asleep in no time.
We are in the rhythm.
He's our last, you see. No more babies.
Read moreI was ugly :: 31 days of messy parenting {day 25}
I think I will regret this, putting it out there. It is so much more, so much heavier - wrought with humility - than a witty 31-day-series tag line. Writing down the words, words I've only said to two, maybe three people... writing them here for you to see.
You will judge me, but I feel compelled. I want to see how truth is beauty. Even ugly truth, made beautiful by what happens, what came, how God was in it anyway.
The beauty, it's all him. The ugly - that's me.
The truth is, I didn't want him.
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