Pooh Bear

It's a silly thing, really, for a grown woman to be so thankful for a stuffed bear. But you'll never know just how much I love seeing my 17 month old toddle down the hall with you clutched under one arm. I know you get ignored most of the day but the way you move around my house I suspect you get hidden hugs and kisses when I'm not looking. I've stepped on you a few times (okay, more than "a few") and I'm certain I've kicked you out of the way. But that doesn't change my heart. I'm so glad you're there! 

You see, that boy who loves you so, didn't easily attach to a comfort item and it took a long time for him to learn to comfort himself. There were a lot of sleepless days and nights waiting for you to win his heart. And then one day, it happened. I don't know who shared the first secret or if it started with middle of the night joke telling. I just know that one day, out of no where, my sweet boy needed you. Do you know how I can tell? Because on those nights that I sneak into his room just to watch him sleep, you're always near by. I know he's fallen asleep under your watchful eye, hearing the stories that only stuffed animals can tell. 

One day, I'll have to pack you away. I'm sure I'll give you one final hug and thank you for the endless nights of taking care of my boy while we all slept. I'll tenderly tuck you in among cherished baby clothes and a baby blanket or two. One day, I hope our boy will open that box and see your face. I hope his heart will flood with memories of a childhood filled with laughter, his faithful friend always by his side. Maybe he'll even let his little boy love on you for a while. No matter what, know that I cherish you Pooh Bear and I am so glad you're snuggled up close to my boy tonight! 

To the baby

Dear Baby,

I've known about you for weeks now. You're tucked deep inside of me in the secret place even I'm not privy to. Sometimes I just marvel at the wonder of an eternal soul being knit together so close to me and yet so far away. God has such an amazing plan for your young life and you haven't even drawn your first breath. 

Today was a hard day. I was exhausted, your brothers were exhausted and therefore grumpy, and we all pushed each other to the limit. At dinner, the hard day spilled out into pterodactyl screeches, food flung to the floor, and a milk cup launched into the stratosphere. In the stress and the chaos and the exhaustion and riding a tidal wave of emotions and hormones, I said the unthinkable. "I don't want to do three of this!" Your daddy was horrified. I was horrified. As soon as the words came out of my mouth I regretted them. But they hung in the air like a thick, toxic cloud. 

How in the world could I not want three? How could I, even for a second, think that another child would not be a blessing? Oh my sweet baby love! I want you more than I can say. More than I can express. 

Pregnancy breaks me. It is tough and full of getting sick and hurting and aching. My insides are rearranged (literally and spiritually) and I am split in two in order to bring you life. The picture of it all is almost more than this tired momma's heart can bear. I wasn't prepared for this breaking this time around. But oh how God is breaking me. I was trying to lose weight when I discovered you were coming along for the ride and in no time vegetables became repulsive. I know you don't know much about this world, wee one, but it's hard to eat healthy when vegetables won't stay down! But during this pregnancy I'm learning that I can't put myself last. If I don't eat on schedule, I'm sick on the couch for the rest of the day. Not enough fiber, I'm feeling miserable and achy. If my blood sugar crashes, I can't function or think clearly. I need to care for me and you. I can't put your brothers first. In mothering littles, this is a tough lesson to learn. But oh how it's needed. I'm a better me when I don't get shoved to the back burner. I'm a better wife to your daddy. I'm a better mommy to you and your brothers. 

I am so excited you're joining our family in March! I am seeing daily that I need you just as much as you need me right now. The next several months I pray that God will rearrange my heart just as your growing body rearranges my own. And when God breaks me and splits me in two, I know that my love for you will explode into the room. It will flood my heart until it overflows and spills over. It'll mend where I ache and make every broken moment worthwhile. Keep growing, my love. And I'll wait to meet you. Wait to hold you close and kiss your cheeks. I'll dream of how you'll fill our home with laughter and squeals of delight. I'll dream of games of chase in the backyard (wait until you see it - it's huge), ball games with your brothers, and long days filled with bike rides around our quiet neighborhood. I love you, dear one. I can't wait to meet you! 

Love, 

Mommy

17 months

Dear Noah,

Tomorrow you'll be 17 months old. I hate to admit it, but I think I blinked. That's the only explanation I have for how we got here so fast! The first 3 months of your life felt like an eternity. (You were not a happy baby!) But since then we've figured each other out and have a beautiful groove going! 

Tonight when I rocked you at bedtime I thought back to when your brother was this age. At 18 months old a switch flipped and he became a totally different child. Is the same switch waiting for you in a month? Will you continue to be the easy going toddler I know now? Will your temper tantrums grow even stronger? Will you continue to have a laugh that comes so easily? (That laugh, by the way, is one of my favorite sounds in the world. I love the way your giggle rolls out effortlessly and your grin swallows your whole face. I love the way you have a laugh just for me. I love that you get hiccups when you laugh too hard.) Will you still adore your big brother? Will you adore the baby that's on the way? 

Your life is full of so many unanswered questions. I guess all life is, really. Your sweet smile sure makes it fun to watch the answers unfold. This month, I think I'll snuggle you a little closer. This may be the last month you let me do so. I love you my precious Noah-Roah. Always and forever.

Love, 

Mommy

Life as we know it

The beginning of TLC's "John and Kate Plus 8" always said "It's a crazy life, but it's our life." As a single young lady who managed a classroom full of children every day, I remember thinking "That is ridiculous! If your life is crazy, make changes. You're the boss of those kids. Just tell them to calm the heck down!" 

Now I have two boys and a baby on the way. My chaos isn't a drop in the bucket to the Gosslin household, but I can tell you this - it's chaos! Beautiful, loud, unrestrained, laughter-filled chaos. Yes, I'm the boss of my kids. They're incredibly well behaved. But they're also experts at "spin-a-roonies" off the couch and leaping into my lap until they knock me down. Our living room is so full of Duplos and balls and books about trucks and unfolded laundry, it's hard to walk. My hair and make up are never done and today I didn't get out of pajamas until at least 1pm. I hardly notice the chaos until I get crazy enough to take them to Belk. By myself. (For those who are curious, don't try it. It's not for the faint of heart.) 

But even when that chaos is in full force, I'm so content in this crazy life! Some days, I want to pull out my hair - like when no one takes a nap. Some days, my heart explodes with love for these little guys living in my home. Our house is never boring (or quiet) so feel free to drop by if you're ever restless. Just give me a warning before you visit the restroom! With a potty training preschooler and a morning sick pregnant mommy, I might need to wipe it down.