Happy #5!

Five. 5. V.

No matter how you put it, it just seems so big. 

How do I even put into words what your life has meant to us? Five years ago our hearts overflowed with joy as we welcomed you into this world. We had NO idea .. let me repeat, NO idea how your arrival would change our lives. We mostly just hoped we could keep you alive, but we weren't so confident about that in the beginning. We did not know you would be born wide awake and we would never sleep again. Or how you would go full speed from sun up to sun down and all the hours in between. We didn't know you would be a walking encyclopedia and google would be the only way I'd be able to answer your questions. We didn't know your feelings would be big - not just sometimes, but all the time. There is no way we could have known how you would grow to have a servant's heart and an immense love for God's creation. 

Your dad and I still take turns lying next to you every single night as you fall asleep. You don't have that fresh newborn scent to you anymore. Most nights you smell like a mixture of sweat, bugs, and dirt - the Heavenly scent of a little boy. Your hair isn't as fine and soft, but my fingers still run through it just as easily. You're pretty picky about how your head lies on my arm these days, but I'm figuring it out slowly.

You can build a 750 piece lego set in a few hours, occasionally turn into a fire-breathing dragon, make a mean pirate 'arrrgh', and drive your sister to tears one minute and have her laughing the next. You could read all day, still pick papa as your best friend, and love playing all sports.

My prayer for you remains the same - that God will surround you with people who will lead you to Him, that you will always be yourself and let your light shine to those around you, that you will know how truly loved you are, and that you will walk the path God has designed for you. I won't pray for an easy life because I want you to taste God's sweet redemption, and when you stumble and step off the path I pray you rely on Him to pick you right back up where you left off. I pray that in times of pain and heartache, you're eyes always look up.

Five seems big because for most kids it means Kindergarten and that's your first big shot out into the real world. Your dad and I decided (with a whole lot of help from the Lord) that it just wasn't the right place for you right now. You will be home with your sister and I next year, and I couldn't be more thankful for that. I pray you learn and grow this year and fall even more in love with the world around you. Even though I'm not sending you off to the big school, it's stilla beautiful heartache I'm feeling as I watch you spread your wings, make new friends, and walk a few more steps ahead of me. You need less of me these days, but I'm still your home base. At the park you prefer to find kids your age instead of asking me to go on some adventure with you, but I don't mind watching you be kind and imaginative from the bench. You play a lot more on your own now because as hard as I try, I just can't dive as deep into your world as you'd like me to. At the end of the day, though, you are still asking for mama to sleep with you.

You're always quick to jump in and help me out. Sometimes when I hear, "How can I help, mom?" I want to cringe a little bit knowing it's going to take 5,000 hours longer, but I always let you help because I never want to squash that big heart of yours. You are the first to run to the side of someone who is hurt. You set the table and clean up milk spills. You put your laundry away and clean up your toys (sometimes!)

I'm blessed to be your mom. Blessed beyond words. Some days I'm not sure how I'll ever survive your big feelings, your constant need for adventure and challenge. You and I are so much alike so when your stubborn is on full blast, I just want to throw in the towel. But I don't because I know the qualities you possess that are challenging to me are the same qualities God is using to mold you into the person he has destined you to be.

You are going to do great things, Trice. I don't know what (I pray not play pro football like you think), but I know that your light will continue to shine bright. I know that there are hard days ahead. You will start to notice when kids are mean.. and kids are SO mean. You will fall down and sometimes you will fail. But through it all, you are going to learn and grow and bloom.

.. and me? I'll be right here cheering you on, praying for you, and soaking up every last bit of  these days while you are still my little boy.

Happy Birthday, big guy! I can't wait to see what 5 has in store for you!

Love,
Your Number One Fan

My Mama Heart Cried Today

"I don't think this park is for 4 1/2 year olds. I need harder things to climb. I will be 5 this summer, you know."

Those words cut deep into my mama heart. It was a beautiful February day, and I decided we would enjoy an hour or so at the park when I picked Trice up from preschool. I took them to the least muddy (but still plenty of fun puddles) park which is also the park that is best for kiddos Eliana's age. As he slung himself over the rocking horse, climbed to the top of the play set in 2 seconds, and made it halfway down the slide just by sitting down at the top, I couldn't help but think back..

March 29, 2013

Trice was just shy of 7 months old. It was a gorgeous day, much like the weather we've had recently, so we threw jackets on and headed to the best tiny human park in town. We documented every moment of the process (which kind of makes me sad because I couldn't tell you the first time Eliana went to a park - I'm pretty sure it was the day we brought her home from the hospital..) Papa went along, of course. 

..and it was magical..

and then there he was in 2014..

..and 2015...

I knew before we went to the park that day that those words might be coming. I'd noticed the last time we were there that he really HAD outgrown that park I loved so much. So many memories - the park we ALWAYS went to when his best friend Syd still lived here because it was within walking distance of their house. All the picnics. The time he climbed the tree and fell out. The million times I'd climbed through the tunnel with him. 

Part of me  just hoped I had more time. I often find myself wishing I had more time, but I'm careful not to let my wish for more time interfere with the time I do have. 

I'm the kind of person who reads all those sappy articles about how when your kids grow up you'll wish you had spent more time with them and less time cleaning, etc. and cries because I don't want my kids to grow up but not because I'm not cherishing the moment. I would say I genuinely cherish 99.9% of the moments - even the tough ones - because I feel it.  I KNOW I'm living the best days of my life. I KNOW it's going to fly by. I truly do enjoy the time I have with these sweet blessings God has entrusted to me. 

And the other day when he climbed out of the bathtub by himself, I wondered when the last time was that he needed me to lift him out. When we headed out for a walk and he hopped on his bike and took off down the trail I wondered when the last time was he rode within arms reach in the stroller. As he set the table and drank out of a breakable glass, I wondered when the last time was he used a sippy. And most recently he's been sleeping all night in his own bed. Pretty soon I'm sure I'll wonder, "When was the last time he came to find me in the middle of the night?"

Watching your kids grow up is the greatest blessing - it's the way it's supposed to happen - it's natural and apparently impossible to keep them little forever. I get it. I embrace it. I'm amazed by it. I'm grateful for it. 

But today.. my mama heart cried.