This is the second week of my friend Susan's Releasing the Butterflies month. It's all about celebrating our children for what they ARE, as they escape their cocoons and turn into what they are meant to be.
Last week I celebrated my oldest, my Turtle, my beautiful daughter. This week, I'm skipping ahead a bit to celebrate my youngest, my only son, my Bug.
"The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough."
Each week, as I've sat down to think, really think, about my kiddos, I've searched for a butterfly quote that speaks to me about each one. Last week, it was about how nothing in our beginnings spoke to what my daughter would become, or what I would become, in learning how to be a mom.
This week, the quote above spoke to me, as I think about my last (most likely) child.
We were pretty cocky, my husband and I, when we talked about whether or not we would have a third child. I think we truly, pridefully, thought it was our decision to make.
That was in the land of before--as in, before I figured out what it truly meant to know God in all His glory. So, yes, in the land of before, we hemmed and we hawed (or however you spell it--I went for phonetically, lol!) and we kept thinking and questioning and wondering.
Because, although we lived in the land of before, we also lived in the land of after.
After we had Firefly.
After we had gone through what seemed like a million medical scares.
After we were using up lots and lots of time and money trying to "figure her out".
After we were exhausted by her never-ending, ferocious tantrums.
"What if's" filled our minds. I even remember saying, quite clearly, "if we get another one like her, I really don't think I can handle it." (Again, a rather cocky thing to say, I understand now.)
Back and forth, over and over. And then, finally, we thought we made a decision. A "throw caution to the wind, let's go for it" kind of decision.
Three weeks later brought a trip to the emergency room with Firefly and asthma, and a decision that "it will really be OK if these are the only two kiddos we have."
Two weeks after that, a positive pregnancy test.
Haha! Joke was on us.
Thank you, God!
Because several months later we had a brand new baby boy!
And he was beautiful. And perfect. And sweet. And wonderful.
And you know what? I'm pretty sure that's when we started paying attention to how much God had been paying attention to us.
See, we had this baby because we told God we trusted Him. And He blessed us with this awesome little bundle of boy.
And now to go back to my quote? It's all about counting the moments.
I can remember sitting with my little guy when he was about three months old, holding him up on my chest while he was sleeping and feeling his little hands scratching my skin when he twitched in his sleep.
And telling myself, "remember this".
I can remember the only way I knew he was sleeping when I would rock him is that he would be still. That was the ONLY time he was truly still--when he fell asleep.
I can remember his great dimples. He still has them and I think they are adorable.
I can remember his "bunny hop" crawl that was the cutest thing ever, until my friend, the pediatric physical therapist saw it and told me it was bad. (In all honesty, it was still pretty cute, though!)
I can remember his first steps, that came way later than we expected them, and how proud of himself he was.
I can remember that with my third child, I finally got those coveted, "where is your mouth?" pictures for a scrapbook--that I've never had time to create.
I remember moments of this little guy's life so far, and I remember reminding myself to remember. He's six years old, now, which is so young, but at the same time, so, so much older than that little one in the pictures.
Six years from now, what will I remember?
My Bug, with a loving, generous spirit. A joyful sense of humor. A passion for learning. A busy, full mind. Kind. Sweet. Funny. Smart.
He's making his own friends, now, and it's fun to watch them together.
He loves sports, his Daddy, his Poppy, and his Granddaddy.
He loves to torture his sisters, especially Firefly.
But he is loyal and fierce when he needs to defend his family.
And it's a horrible picture because he wouldn't sit still (see a pattern here?), but I just HAD to have a shot of that missing upper tooth, because it's the cutest thing ever--except for maybe that bunny hop crawl.
My Turtle butterfly reminds me of growth--mine and hers and ours together. My Bug butterfly reminds me of promises.
Promises of mine that I would trust God.
Promises to myself that I would remember and count the moments.
Promises from God that He is and He knows.
He gave Bug to our family. And we love him so very much!
Join some of my friends as they celebrate their own butterflies!
Chareen @ Every Bed of Roses
Susan @ Homeschooling Hearts & Minds