You’re so tiny…so little here.

You look at us through wide eyes when you aren’t sleeping.

You rest easy when the hunger stops, when your belly is full, and you are warm and snug.

You’re our bundle.


We don’t want to miss your tiny fingers, nose and eyebrows.

…Your dark hair fluffy after bath time…your brother’s eagerness to get so close in his strength brushing up against your fragility.

In your fragility I find my own.


It makes me want to cry.

Makes me cry for because YOU, because LOVE, because I’m afraid of it flying by too fast and I’ll miss it…I’ll be caught up somewhere with something that in the end is less important than what’s happening with you.

Makes my heart tear up at how much I’m enjoying your snuggles, your nestling in close, your little against our big, your little life nestling, snuggling into the whole of our day-to-day life.

How beautiful is this…this tiny soul coming. We are grateful for you…you answered prayer you.


Parents say often to others that “kids grow up so fast…” We warn each other not to miss our kiddos small-ness…to love the stage they are in.

Sometimes those words don’t make sense to me…who wants their kid to remain in diapers forever? Who will honestly miss the teething nights and making sure we have enough Tylenol? Who will miss chasing down a runny nose?


But here, now this makes sense…and I’m afraid my heart will blink and you will be too old, the baby newborn face gone…the toddler hands taking over the delicate hands of my dinky newborn.

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My heart irrationally wants to keep you as a newborn forever…wants this stage to go on and on…my heart not ever getting tired of it.

I know you’ll grow, and that, (thankfully) it won’t be overnight that you and your brother will morph into being 2 years old, or 10 years old, or 20.


Maybe that is the unspoken grace of parenting…that the time graciously flees slower forward than when we look backward. Maybe this blunts the whiplash effect.

…The whiplash of having seen a little baby boy become a toddler…a wrestle-life-down little big boy with a mind full of imagination and continuous fascination with all things mechanical.

The little boy who still has been around for most of our marriage, and who’s learning and speaking new things faster than we can keep up.

Maybe that’s why the whiplash, the fragility of this mommy heart is showing this time…


This time when there is less depression to cloud the waters, and more time to see and believe that the “little” in the moment won’t be little long.

They say “babies don’t keep”….


So we savor all the crazy bouts of “NO!” and explosive diaper changes (because truly, that is way better than a trip to the ER), and all the tiring days of falling into bed thinking that tomorrow is coming too soon…

We hold these moments with you, feeling your fragility…the tears over “BEEBO’s!” that require kisses, the hungry mouths that want snacks, and the milk given before “goodnight”. We hold these moments, feeling our own fragility. MY own fragility when I see my incompetence when it comes to patience, perseverance, long-suffering.

I feel my Momma-heart cracking when I see that the days will come when you won’t want to lunge onto “Mommy and Daddy’s BED!!!” and when you won’t want to hear the “I love you song?” before bed.

Eventually you won’t fit to snuggle next to me on the couch or go on piggy back rides anymore. You won’t need your hot dogs or noodles sliced.

This marathon of motherhood won’t leave me, without tears, sweat, and the desire for a cool drink of water to wash away my lingering parental fears. But each day we are unwrapping the gift of you, my child a unique soul who next week won’t be the same. This is my fragility coming close: seeing, knowing, loving even as you change. This fragility is and will always be a gift…The gift of witnessing God shape and form you.

It’s a fragility that undergirds the strength to keep loving and to know the bright, broken and beautiful places.


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