In One Year...
Tonight feels a bit overwhelming. Sleeping upstairs is my
baby boy, who is really not that much of a baby anymore. He’s 11 months old. Next
month that means he’ll be ONE. How is that even possible?! He spiked a high
fever this weekend and was unusually lethargic for the following few days. When
he woke up with a full body rash on Tuesday afternoon, I called the doctor in a
bit of a panic. Apparently it’s roseola and totally normal. I guess this is
what having a big sister will do to you. He’s really been very good despite his
cheetah skin. The only real symptom is that he’s super lovey and tired. And maybe
I’m kind of liking that these first few days of VPK. I’m enjoying my little man
who snuggles into my neck and rubs his forehead on my shoulder. I enjoy the 2-3
naps, sleeping in and early bedtime that this means for him. And I enjoy the
quiet time to myself to reflect on how crazy it is that I’m actually having any
quiet time at all. Because also upstairs sleeping is my sweet little girl. My first
born. My fiery child. My little princess who is full of sparkle and glitter and
oozing with sweetness and humor…and attitude and sass and who desperately wants
to grow up like yesterday. Lately she’s been asking when she can become a
mommy. Is it too much that I tell her she has to fall in love first? And get
married. And then it’s still up to God when He places a baby in your belly??
She’s also been asking when she gets *eh-hem* boobs. “Mommy, is I gonna get
boobs soon? I’m a big girl now!” Me, “Ummm that usually doesn’t happen until,
like, high school.” So instead she puts on her princess high heels and runs
around singing Call Me Maybe.
This star in the making just turned 4 today. Four. Wowzers. Crazy
to think about life before her. And even more crazy to think about what the
future holds for her. We are oil and water. But in reality we’re oil and oil. Exactly
the same. Which is why we butt heads. Just like my dad and I. so I guess that
probably makes us olive oil and olive oil…its’ gotta be the Italian in us,
right?? I had a heart to heart tonight after bedtime with Bernard (who’s stinking
amazing, if I haven’t said that before) about why she and I are the way we are.
One of these days I’m gonna be able to speak my mind the way he does. I have
got to find a way to lay off of her. To choose my battles. To make things teaching
moments but still let her be a kid. That sounds so easy right? It feels
impossible. I want desperately to “raise her right” and yet I feel like I’m pushing
her away. I want her to be able to come to me with anything. To tell me everything,
but I feel like instead she’s already afraid of making a mistake around me.
Lord, please show me how to be the type of mother that my mom was for me. You can’t teach this, really. You have to be
born with it. And my mother is a saint. No seriously. I remember as a kid
thinking she must be an angel and being terrified that God was going to call
her back from duty at any time. She has more patience than anyone I know. She I
kind and creative and considerate and godly and strong and loving and faithful
and just awesome. Seriously. She’s amazing. And if Gabbi is so much like me, my
mom is bound to have had some of the same struggles right? *sigh* ok I’m done. Sorry
for that tangent.
Reflecting tonight on how in one year so much can change,
and yet, in a weird way, they’re exactly the same…
 |
| One year ago, waiting for our little man |
 |
| Happy Third Bday Gabs |
 |
| Happy Fourth, big girl |
Thankful.
Blessed.
happy and sad b'day! they grow up too fast. And, by the way, i could've written this identical post myself about my little girl and me. i feel ya' sista.
ReplyDeleteI so feel you, too......I love your heart, friend!
ReplyDeleteGina! Is it weird that I am stalking your blog? You words ring true in the heart of every mother who truly values their role. The way your write about your mother is beautiful. I caught myself thinking, I hope I possess just one of those qualities, and how will Katherine describe me when she is older. I am relating completely to your worries, your hopes, your desires. And , my Audrey must be just a few weeks off from Brent. She is a September 11th baby. I have been marveling at this year past the past few days. Overwhelming.
ReplyDeleteFrom distant locations, we are sharing such similar sentiments. Prayers for you, my fellow momma. I know you are a fabulous momma.
Sweet Natasha! Not weird at all! I read this comment last week and have been thinking of you since. Isn't it crazy and beautiful how motherhood can bond and rekindle two people? I hope things are going wonderfully for you and Brett. I actually thought about you two a few weeks ago at mass when a FOCUS volunteer spoke to our parish about his upcoming assignment at Auburn :) My little man turns one on Sept 18- just one week after your adorable Audrey. Can you believe how fast it goes? I swear the second one grows faster...and that Gabbi aged during the two days I was at the hospital for his birth...ANYWAY! So happy to hear from you. The prayers are mutual :)
DeleteI also think it's harder to raise girls because we know what we want them to be like, and to not be like, since we were all there ourselves. I think it's easier to be harder on them. I feel myself asking God the same thing: to let Anna be a kid and to gently correct her, not break her spirit. It's such a tough balance! I love your Mamma too. She's a special lady.
ReplyDeleteAMEN! There's just something about that mother/daughter relationship, huh?! I'm sure your memory is a little foggy regarding some of the bumps along the road with you and your mom, but you undoubtedly gleaned some of her admirable traits. Gabbi will look at you with the same admiration down the road, but it may be a few prayer-filled years before you (WE) get to that point.
ReplyDeleteThat was fun to read. I had know idea she is asking for boobs now... Gabbi Joy, you stop that! I cant believe how much can change in a year.
ReplyDelete