I've heard that the most difficult adjustment is going from one kid to two. After that its just adding another child. I can't validate that theory myself, since I've only gone from zero to one (and thought that was kinda tough) and from one to two (and thought that was really tough!). But it makes sense. I mean, I can't quite picture Michelle Duggar saying, "Well the transition from 10 to 11 was quite a challenge, but going from 13 to 14 was pretty easy, and we hardly noticed the difference between 16 and 17 kids." Maybe after a while it just becomes second nature.
I was thinking about the Duggars the other day while reading Psalm 127:
The fruit of the womb is a reward.
And not that those days aren't happening less often, or that I suddenly don't mind them. But we're starting to see small glimmers of hope, glimpses of that great future beach-lady alluded to.
I see it when Jack and Jude start laughing together in the back of the car, I see it when my oldest son spontaneous picks up a toy and hands it to his brother, I see it when the boys entertain each other over dinner, and I see it during our special naptime book-reading ritual when the two boys, and Monkey, all cuddle under the blankets for storytime. I see it when Jude's eyes light up when his brother walks into the room. I see it in Jack's grave concern that Jude, and now Monkey, and dinosaurs, and Mr. Potato Head, etc., are all well-fed and burped.
I see it in the way he apologizes, hugs and open-mouth kisses little "Jew" after doling out the aforementioned headbutt. I see a good future with the four of us (and whomever else God chooses to add to our heritage). I see lots of life lessons to practice amongst each other before we send our little olive shoots out into the world. I see lots of opportunities to sharpen our arrows while they're still in the quiver, and I'm already beginning to see the targets we'll be aiming towards.
And I'm thankful. Not just for my two beautiful boys, or my wondeful, hardworking husband. But also for the family that we're becoming. For the hard days, the incredibly difficult days because they keep me working towards my goals. For the poopy diapers that remind me that I have incredibly healthy little guys. For the sour milk spit-up that reminds me I am still able to nourish my littlest one. For Mickey Mouse Clubhouse because it allows me to write this blog this morning. For the whining, "mommy-ing" and clinging because I know that I am loved and needed. For the piles and piles of dirty laundry and dishes, reminders of special moments we've had together outside in the dirt and around our dinner table. For two early, consistent risers that keep me from being lazy. For the headbutting and arm swinging that allows us to daily practice loving discipline, forgiveness and restitution and has brought to light the importance of these things in my own life. And for a God and Savior, who sends encouraging people along the way, whether on beach walks or virtual message groups, that motivate me to keep reaching for my goals, and Who dwells in this house and daily gives me the grace to do what I once thought I'd never be able to do. My quiver may not be that full, but my heart most certainly is!
May you have a blessed Thanksgiving with your friends and family this week!