Friday, January 31, 2014

humbling days + staircases + cappucinos

Oh, those days that humble you. When one moment you're encouraging yourself to see the gifts in your kiddos, and the next you are taking your 90th deep breath because said kiddo is testing your very last ounce of patience. Two-year-olds are delightful and smart and funny, and man they leave you scratching your head for how to parent them well.

And then your clumsy, uber-pregnant self falls down a (short) flight of stairs. Yeah, yesterday was that day. I was watching Nicholas and my sweet nephew, and I lost my balance and skidded down the staircase that leads into my living room.
Luckily I landed on my back and not my belly, but it was pretty scary. (I called my doctor and the baby and I are doing great, I'm just sore today.) I sat on the bottom step watching Nicholas run around like a crazy person and tried really hard to hold back tears. That only worked for a few minutes, until my sister came to pick up my nephew and I cried all over her. Humbling day, yes indeed.

I'm really grateful for my sissy, for friends who pray for you, text you encouragement and commiserate with their own preggo-stories. I'm thankful that today Baby Boy is wiggling like his normal hyper self. I love that my mama friends will share the hard stories, but also the ones that give you a lot of hope.

I had some work to do, and let's be honest I just needed to get out of the house, so my husband was super gracious and sent me out to a coffee shop during Nicholas' nap time. (Does this happen everytime I have a bad day? No. But it was really good timing.) I drank the best cappuccino of all of life. (Maybe it was better because I was hormonal and it was paired with a coconut macaron? Who knows.) I took an hour, breathed in, did some work, and came back (mostly) refreshed.


These humbling days make you grateful for really simple things, and it also made me acutely aware of how much I need the Lord - and how much He comforts me, even if circumstances don't change. 

When I came home from my "break," I sat on our couch and cried with Brian for just a few minutes. Nicholas came over to me, laid his head in my lap and reached his arms out to cover my legs with a hug. He then looked up at me and asked, "You feel better, Mommy?" 

Cue me clutching my chest and crying even more.
My 2-year-old IS such a gift, even when he doesn't say sweet things like that. He is growing and rowdy and testing boundaries, just as he's supposed to do. I'm grateful for him. And my husband. And coffee.

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