i sit here this morning with a bulging belly behind my computer.
chia kombucha on my night stand and german wire-hair at my feet.
i’m not a routine kind of gal. but i’m finding that routine matters.
it gives room to accomplish a little more and to be invested in what matters most to you.
my mornings are so dear to me that i feel compelled to remember them.
because in just two short months, that routine will die. and a new one will begin. one that might not be so gentle…:)
my mornings have been kind to me this season. and i relish them.
emri woke up this particular morning in a good mood. (this is not always the case) she came and woke me up after eating breakfast while ben was preparing to leave for work. she giggled and played her air guitar next to my bed while i told myself that coffee was only a mere 15 feet away. ben comes in, kisses me and tells me he loves me before leaving. as soon as he leaves and shuts the door, ella runs to our bedroom and jumps in bed with me. she snuggles right up and presses her wet, cold nose on my cheek and sniffs.
i roll out of bed literally because that’s the only way being 8 months pregnant. my day has begun.
i remind emri to be quiet a handful of times per usual so not to wake up her brother.
she dances around and gathers her things.
i pack her lunch and brush her hair. she complains that it hurts. i tell her to whisper.
we wait by the door. i pray over her. i pray for safety. i pray for a good day. i pray that God would bless her hard work. i pray that she would have fun, and that she would know Jesus is with her and that she would hear his voice.
i watch her get on the bus. pink coat and pink backpack. too teeny for that bus. too little to be at school all day.
i hate it when the bus takes her. every time.
i hear samuel making noises in his room.
i go and get him. he’s usually more concerned about finding his binkie that fell out somewhere on the floor than saying good morning. so we find his binkie. he smiles at it. i change his diaper and kiss his chubby feet one at a time. he smiles at me with sleepy eyes.
his skin is so soft. his cheeks are so pink. i’m still not over him.
i place him in his highchair and feed him his yogurt and applesauce while he grunts and points to things around the kitchen. i slice up a mandarin and a few cheerios on his tray to occupy him while i empty the dishwasher and throw a load of laundry in. he intermittently feeds the dog and himself.
i waddle up the basement stairs with clean laundry to fold.
i wipe his face off and he kicks hard and laughs showing all his little teeth and dimples. he is excited to get out of the chair.
he immediately crawls to the front door once i set him down. i sit down next to him. he grunts at the birds he sees outside.
“do you see the birds?” i ask.
he raises his eyebrows and grunts some more and points.
we sit there by the door together and i’m fascinated with his long eye lashes and chubby cheeks.
we move to the living room and i fold laundry. he crawls around and continues to make sure i’m still there folding laundry.
when my presence is confirmed he flashes me a charming smile.
we work and play side by side. these days, he won’t let me migrate too far.
all the laundry is folded. i’m tempted to just leave it there on the couch but i tell myself that i will feel much better if its all put away.
i leave the room to deliver clean clothes in each room. i hear samuel hands and knees moving quickly across the hardwood floor following me.
i lean over and pick up the 30 pound giant baby. i pray my uterus doesn’t rupture.
how long can i carry you and this baby inside me?
we get a few tasks done, as much as possible with a crawling baby at your feet until its time for his nap.
and i have a good hour of delicious leisure.
the remainder of the day will then go by fast. and before i know it my head will hit the pillow in utter exhaustion.
the simplicity of the morning is redemptive for me though. its the open space that i prayed for. the space i hoped for. and dreamed about.
and its worth taking in its beauty for a moment.
thank you for your kindness jesus. your gift of rest before i enter this new season is generous.