Plum Tuckered

I went away for a weekend to visit my sister in O-HI-O. While I was busy eating dinner uninterrupted by a toddler littering sugar packets all over the floor MESSSSYYYYY, sleeping in until the obscene hour of 10 blessed 30, and generally basking in the flatland friendliness of the Mid-West, my Baby Girl was steamrolling every last sapling of energy from my Lovey Loverpants' veins. He was plum-tuckered out when I arrived home. Here's what happened while I was away:

Someone finally took out the trash.

Vehicles were ridden without seatbelts.

Monkeys were pushed.

Hair-raising experiences were had.

***

Oh, and while in Ohio, I got to tell my sister that she was going to be an auntie...again. :) Pee Wee Loverpants, volume II, due May 2010

Ain't Nothing Like the Real Thing, Baby

She knows where my every last button is, and she keeps on pushing B-BEEP-B-BEEP until I scold, correct, or redirect. And frankly, I'm tired of all three. She has become very physically strong and I have to keep reminding her not to kick mommy in the face/stomach whilst changing her diaper, not to give mommy male pattern balding as she claws through my hair. She is not like this for Loverpants. She doesn't second guess every offer of every sippy cup in the house. She negotiates, but he also placates, and together they are Switzerland whereas she and I are, on our good days, two rival sorority sisters forced to share a single.Yesterday, as I was putting her into her stroller (after she boycotted nap at daycare for the 2839502850923rd day in a row), I said, "I love Baby Girl," to which she replied, "I yuv Mommy! I yuv Daddy!" in a sing-song voice, for the first time ever.

I am pretty sure the Heavens opened up with a Halleluiah chorus. Unicorns were jumping over rainbows. Lions were laying down with lambs.

It gave me absolute goosebumps.

I can honestly say from the deepest recesses of my heart, 42 weeks of pregnancy coupled with inserting my own cervix ripener, 30+ hours of labor, a 106 degree temp, a super scary emergency c-section, week after week of Koreans squeezing my post-partum belly to see how well my uterus was shrinking, and every last day of brow-beating difficulty in raising this child so far has ALL BEEN WORTH IT because of that one little moment yesterday with that sweet little dumpling that doesn't really know, nor may she ever really know what it meant to me to hear those words from her.

She loves me. She really loves me.

***

Help from Above

There is a verse in Psalms that says, "Children are an heritage of the Lord." I'd never deeply pondered it. I just thought it was a nice way of saying that God grows His family by blessing us with children.

But then I considered the significance of the word "heritage." And I considered how the verse doesn't say that my child is my heritage. My child, in fact, is part of the Lord's heritage. Placed in my care for a time indefinite. To raise her to know that her heritage, her belonging is of and in the Lord.

At first I thought this was very intimidating. Like having to hold someone's wedding rings and not only keep myself from losing them but to remember to bring them to the wedding on the right day. Only in this case, I am holding the life of a soul and need to make sure not to lose her and make sure she makes it into God's kingdom when that roll is called up yonder, y'all.

But then I considered that if my daughter is the Lord's own family, then He wants nothing more than to see her in Heaven. He will fight for her precious soul! He will strengthen me and give me everything I need if I only ask. I find such comfort and freedom in this! And yet, the more encouraged I am by this message, the more I so clearly see when I falter, when I am quick to forget that I am tending to the Lord's heritage and serving another master...

As my daughter approaches the "Training Twos," it is so clear to me how *everything* I do or fail to do influences her. I see how easy it is to be quick to anger STOP TRYING TO SIT ON MY HEAD; IT IS NOT AN OTTOMAN and slow to enforce discipline IF YOU STOP TANTRUMMING, THIS CUPCAKE CAN BE YOURS. This has been a physically challenging week with Baby Girl, and I almost cannot believe that I am not the one going to sleep at night in the crib with my pacifier and Curious George because I feel like such a big ween.

So I try to read things that will embolden me as a parent rather than the usual misery loves company. Here's a sampling:

"In their important work parents must ask and receive divine aid. Even if the character, habits, and practices of parents have been cast in an inferior mold, if the lessons given them in childhood and youth have led to an unhappy development of character, they need not despair. The converting power of God can transform inherited and cultivated tendencies; for the religion of Jesus is uplifting. 'Born again' means a transformation, a new birth in Christ Jesus.Let us instruct our children in the teachings of the word. If you will call, the Lord will answer you. He will say, Here I am; what would you have Me do for you? Heaven is linked with earth that every soul may be enabled to fulfill His mission. The Lord loves these children. He wants them brought up with an understanding of their high calling."

- Ellen G. White