While I in no way feel like an ole' pro right now, I do feel like we are moving more in to the world of routine. One month in and life as a family of six is starting to feel slightly normal. Let's be blunt... I am no longer counting heads as we leave a place to make sure we didn't leave one behind. That constitutes success for me.
Having arrived in this much calmer, a bit more even-keeled place, I am now able to look back on some of my pre-Annie obsessions and have a little giggle. I sure can be pretty dramatic, no? In one of my more tearful stages of pregnancy denial (read: anywhere really between month one and seven), I was often in complete turmoil over the fact that there would be an 8 year (EIGHT YEARS!) gap between my oldest and youngest. How would they ever come to be close???
Perhaps, I should have remembered to which oldest kid I was referring to...
Our Molly girl. She's always had a fierce love for those siblings of hers...
It is this. This single moment on a random afternoon, when I happen to click a seemingly nothing picture on my phone. Seconds later, I look down and I am completely lost in the beauty of it. While just a picture to most, this is a Momma memory from years ago that carved a gentle and soft space in my heart. You fellow Moms know exactly what I mean. It is in this moment that I am reminded of all the beauty that grows out of the unexpected. Give love and just let love grow. And you know what... even in the worst of instances imaginable (hello, pediatric ER)... that love grows right on through. It calms a weary heart.
Another delightful surprise? My sweet son, the lone male kid in this house of girls. Initially, I had worried for him with all of this... perhaps feeling isolated... alone.
I should have known that I'd birth his mini-me.
Sometimes, it is okay to not be in control. I am so thankful for the gentle reminders.
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