My baby.
My baby, Atti, is 14 months old!
The time is drawing painfully near when he won't be a baby anymore...
The time is drawing near when he'll grow into his full name...Atticus!
Well, maybe not...
(His name makes him sound like he should be out killing Romans... vicously...with swords...doesn't it?)
This hurts my mommy heart. (That he's growing up, not that his name makes him sound like a gladiator.)
Some of you may not know, but I now have 3 children. Three wonderful children, who work me to the bone, and push me to the brink of insanity, and inspire most of my ramblings here on ye ole blog.
Of course I think they're the best thing since sliced cheese. See, I defended them,
here, a few posts ago.
But right now, I'm not sure if I'm going to have any more babies...three seems like an awfully good number.
Most of the world would think that having three babies is...so
Little House on the Prairie...but there are others, in different circles, who would say that it is selfish for me
not to have any more babies when I'm young, and healthy, and able.
I'm honestly not sure where I fall on that issue.
All I know, is that for the last five years, I've carried a baby around on my hip like a security blanket.
And I'm not sure what I'll do when I don't have one anymore.
So much of my identity rests in the fact that I have babies. I have babies. I feed babies. I change baby diapers. I rock babies. I tickle babies. I snuggle babies...oh, there's really nothing in this world like snuggling a sweet smellin' baby...
And at the risk of this sounding a little overly dramatic, when I think about not having any more babies, and letting go of my "mom with babies" person, I sort of feel like a part of me is dying.
Look at that face...
You should have seen me squallin (that's southern for crying) a few months ago when I cleaned out Atti's baby clothes.
I held one pair of shoes in my hands, unable to drop them into the "give away" box...tears and eyeliner streaming down my face, muffled sobs coming out in waves...
Brandon came in and looked down at me like I was a mental patient, shook his head, and walked out...confused.
I know he doesnt' quite get it. He wants to, but just doesn't.
But I bet you kind of do.
All I know is that God has been good to me in this season of my life. So good.
And though my season may be changing, God isn't. And it is in that, that I place my hope.
And who knows, I am still awfully young. Maybe there are more diapers in my future...
Only the Lord knows.
But right now, I'm going to live in the moment that I'm in.
And if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go snuggle this baby...
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