The Inevitable...

I suppose it was inevitable...
I have a pretty wicked shopping addiction. Fortunately for my husband, it's the worst when I'm at thrift shops, yard sales, or resale shops. I'm also pretty practical about reusing and up-cycling (everything can be reused or sold). I haven't always been this way--okay, I've always had a serious shopping problem; it's just that until the leaner years (thanks, Mr. President), I wasn't as into the thrifts shops. I also put everything on plastic, which I'm in the process of paying off...again...
Anyways, I love to shop, but I love to sell...and I also love to give when I can. With both Hannah and Jericho, I was blessed with a considerable amount of new and used clothing. The clothing I was given has been passed along to several other new mothers, or has been upcycled at a favorite shop of mine, and traded for more secondhand clothes for my son.
Of course, Hannah didn't get to wear much; we had a huge amount of clothing that I had washed and sorted (so it couldn't be returned); I can't begin to remember all of the people we gave it to, but they all knew it was given with love, and with a broken heart. I'm glad that their little girls got to wear the ruffles and bows...and truthfully, I'm glad I never ran into anyone wearing one of Hannah's dresses. I think it would have shattered me.
With Jericho's clothes, it's been delightful to see where they've gone. One friend of mine brought her son home from the hospital in a particularly cute outfit of Jericho's. It was so cute to see our babies in the same monkey-suit! And since her baby was like, twice the size of mine, he looked even funnier in it.
As many things of Hannah's that we could reuse, we did. We had the nursery bedding packed away; she never used it, and it was a gender-neutral jungle design that Jericho loves. There were yellow onesies, white onesies, Blues outfits, some Cardinals gear--we kept what we could, within reason. I didn't get rid of the very last of her clothes until I found out Bug was a boy. We kept books, CDs, certain toys...we had hope that we'd have another baby, and I'm thankful we kept what we did.
So, it was inevitable that one day, I'd run into something of hers that I'd forgotten was hers, and that it would sucker-punch me in the gut.
And it did, 3 days ago.
Books are friends, right? And I firmly believe one should never gift a book without an inscription.
I grabbed a book for Jericho's nightly Bible time and story time, and there it was, from some dear friends and prayer warriors of ours..."For Hannah: Love, The Renauds, 2006"
I stopped breathing for a minute; tears welled up, and I couldn't help but cry...
But there was my boy,
Looking at me...
Big blue/brown eyes staring up at me quizzically...
Tiny hands touched my knees...patted my legs...
He is my now.
Even though I was sitting in what was her room, in the only piece of furniture that we kept--the rocking chair--even though the words on that page had me split-second thinking of what we missed out on---
He is my now.
I looked at him and dried my tears. I kissed his head, and said, "It's all right, Bug. This was your sisters. And now I'm going to read you the stories I didn't get to read her...but it's okay, because she's living them as we speak."
I know he doesn't understand, and I have no idea how David and I are going to approach the subject when he asks (I'm sure he will; her pictures are on the wall, and it's only a matter of time). What I do know, is that all I ever want him to know is how much we loved her, and how much we loved him; how much her tiny life changed ours forever, and how much we learned...and how faithful God is at keeping His promises, and in never wavering in His heart's desires for our lives.
The occasional sucker-punch never hurt anyone, right? Sometimes it's what it takes to remind us how far we've come...and how much the blessing right under our noses really means to us...
I love that boy.

It's a little late for Resolutions...

There are no New Year’s Resolutions in the Cooley household.

There are thoughts, sure—like, are we ever going to lose weight or actually work out?—that are generally followed with “Dear LORD, where would we EVER find the time?!?”

There are hopes—“I can resist raiding the box of cookies!”—followed by “Where are the $%*(% cookies!!!?????”—followed by guilt-wracked wails of “Why did I buy the %*(%* cookies?!?!?”

There are dreams—“I’m keeping those jeans—I may fit back into them someday!”—followed by the handing of said jeans over to my mother, because I’ve just ripped them, and I don’t know how to sew.

But really?

I’m struggling with self-acceptance.

I’m struggling with not caring about my weight anymore.

I’m struggling with just giving up…

But maybe that’s where I need to be?

All of that aside (and that’s a LOT), there are just no resolutions in our household. I’m not promising to get anything done. David and I are trying to re-organize some things (our little house was just fine for the two of us, but with an increasingly-mobile little one, we have to move some furniture around!), and we’re learning about what life with a soon-to-be toddler means.

It means smiles and tears…new discoveries (toilets are AWESOME drums!)…It means falls, and learning to climb over everything (before he’s walking, he’s climbing everywhere. Nothing is safe). It means learning new words (mostly that Mommy says “no!” a lot!!!), and making new sounds.

It means that everything is new for JD…and everything is new for me. Everything is new for this Mommy role that I’ve stepped into, that I’ve dreamt about my entire life.

JD breaks every barricade that I set up for him—is this indicative of his personality later on? Will he be my boundary pusher? Will I have the patience for it, or will I throw up my hands in frustration? Will I be the kind of parent that learns to channel that risk-taking into Kingdom living?

I take everything so seriously—shouldn’t I?

That’s not to say that I don’t have some fun with it—my little guy is a riot. Nothing’s funnier than his laugh, and nothing makes stop in my tracks and praise God, like hearing it come from that sweet soul. He’s hilarious, he’s challenging, he’s everything I’ve ever hoped for!!!!! 

He has 7 teeth, and they were hard-fought battles. Going to sleep is a challenge in his crib; I’ve spent a few nights crying to my husband that I’m afraid he’s going to think I’m a terrible mommy for abandoning him in the nursery I tried so hard to make inviting. It’s getting better…but I’m not going to lie: When he starts crying at 2:30 in the morning, I go and get him. I bring him to bed, where he lays on my arm and snuggles…and I feel complete, with my little family snuggled under the covers (Holly is on the floor—but she’s in the room, so she counts).

These are the happiest days of my life.

I do the most writing when I’m struggling, and when I need to vent….but I don’t really want to vent. The times I’ve needed to blow off some steam have been unprintable; even though there are areas I’m struggling in, they’re nothing new, and it all feels redundant. Yep—we’re still broke. Yep—I’m still a working mom (although I had a PHENOMENAL holiday break). Yep—I’m still fat. The things I typically complain about haven’t changed, so why bother?  Every day is a trial of finding ways to improve various situations.

My biggest struggles have been with anxiety and fear….again, something that just hasn't changed.

Someday, fear will die, and anxiety will go away. I hope it happens for me in this lifetime, because when it gets out of control, it robs me of the happiness I've been given. 

I worry that if anything happened to me, does David know that I love him more than life itself? Does Jericho know that there is nothing I wouldn’t do for him, to see him have his very best life? Does my family know how much I thank God for them, for their love and support? Do they know I couldn’t breathe without them?

Have I said the things I need to, to the people I need to say them to?  I hope so.

Life is short, but love is long. And the love that I pour into today will make an eternal impact for someone…

Maybe that’s my New Year’s Resolution: To tell the people I love every day, that I love them with all of my heart. To make sure I don’t go to sleep without thanking God for putting them into my life. To make sure that above all, Jesus knows that I cannot live my life without knowing He is the Reason and the Center of it all, in spite of my fears and failures.

The things that need to change, will change on their own. Our finances will eventually get figured out; I will eventually get my weight under control. These are not things I should waste my time worrying about—really, I’m done. It’s exhausting, worrying about all of this crap. That’s not to say I’m having a free-for-all; I just don’t want to stress over it anymore. And for the love of God, if one more person trolls my Facebook site with weight-loss information, I’m going to smack them in the face with a bag of Oreos!!!!!

I just want to love my son and my husband. I want to enjoy my life, and close my eyes at the end of the day, knowing that I’ve done just that. And I do.

I like my life.

Can I stay in this moment forever?