Year Seven

Yesterday was Noahkeem's birthday. He's now 7.  He's still  on the small side for his age but loaded with personality. What he feels he usually says-regardless of who is around.   As of late this little guy has been showering me with lots of hugs, kisses & "I love yous".  They always seem to come at the perfect time.

When I think that he's coming into my room to ask me for something-again, He says with all seriousness, "Mom, I love you" and puts his arms around my neck and pulls my face close to his, and then kisses me on the cheek.

As imperfect as I feel as a Mom at times, and without the benefit of a progress report of how I faired as a mother to him over the last 7 years, I always feel okay after hearing my little guy say, that he loves me.

All he wanted to do for his birthday was go to the pet store at the mall, pick out a dog and play with it and then go to Red Robin- his favorite restaurant. 

We went to the mall and picked out a Shi-Poo (Half Shi Tzu Half Poodle) & played with the little fur ball for a good 30 minutes before eating dinner.

With all the celebration, crumpled up wrapping paper left  behind on the kitchen floor, the only thing that was on my mind at the end of the night was how very blessed I am to have a sweet little son.  All I could think about was the first time I held him in my arms and how very tiny my little 5lb baby was and how proud I was to be his mother.

I thought about how gracious the nurses were to give him a little outfit that actually fit him so that he could get his first pictures taken. (the one I had got him was way too big).  I remember how his first year and a half was so busy with  special diets, doctors,  and specialists.  The days seemed so long.   It amazes me how he overcame all of that and how God healed his little body and gave me so much hope during that uncertain season.

My  prayer today is  that God would show me how to love him all the more as he gets older and way into adulthood. As he grows up  may I  have the same tender heart toward him as I did on the day that he was born.

He Wants It All

Do you ever wake up in the morning and there is a song on your heart?  This morning, a day with no mistakes in it yet, greeted me with this song softly playing on my heart.   As much as I want to give something more beautiful to the Lord, when I lift my hands this morning, they are just filled with things that don't seem much like a pure offering and it makes me think, "what kind of God continually wants messiness, broken pieces,  and negative emotions?"  "What kind of God continually pursues me so that we would have every opportunity on this earth to be in relationship with one another?".  "What kind of God takes what I give Him on yesterday  and the next day tells me He wants it all-today?"

As I keep hearing the song, I am certain, He wants me, even all of me. He wants all of the frustration, the laughter, the disappointment, the celebrations...everything.

9 years

On Saturday my little Rocco, who is not so little anymore will be 9 years old.  It's so hard to believe that it has been 9 years.  So many memories flood my heart when the birthdays of my little people roll around.. 

I was so excited to meet my little Rocco on the night that he was born.  I could hardly stop staring at him.  I remember how my Sebrena was trying to rush me out of the door in between contractions while I was determined to get the movie camera before I left.  It almost make me laugh..and cry at the same time,  because I still miss her. 

I got to the hospital and a little over 2 hours later Rocco was born. He was 7lbs. 2oz.  He was my biggest baby. He was a good little eater and by the time he was 4 months old he was 22lbs! I never thought I could be in love with a little boy so much.

Over the years we  survived teething, potty training, climbing out of the crib, a 2 year old who gave up naps way too soon,  lost toys, shoes being thrown onto the roof of the house-which he still does til this day, balls floating away in the lake, early morning soccer games, blazing hot T-ball games,  3 trips to the Emergency Room, stitches and  1 spinal tap,  

I am so very blessed to be given the privilege of being a mother to this sweet little boy who is growing up up so fast.  May I never be too busy to get on the floor and play, to shoot hoops, to rub his back,  and to snuggle when he wants to.  May I never be so strict  that I don't ever let him stay up  past  bedtime, let him have extra dessert, and occasionally let him play the drums as loud as he wants to.

May I always remember the look in  his little  eyes the first time I held him in my arms on the night that he was born, the joy on his face when he began to walk, and the tears in my eyes, the day he learned to ride his bike.

May I always consider myself blessed to be called his mother.