The due date for baby Isaiah's birth is drawing near, as I was reminded by my doctor at an appointment on Friday. We were talking about the "official" due date of February 5, but the doc reminded me that I will be considered full-term at 37 weeks. That is mid-January. As in, 6 weeks from now. *Oh my* I suck in my breath as it sinks in, maybe really truly sinks in, for the first time... I will be a momma to TWO little boys in a very short time. TWO. If Isaiah's movements in his current cozy home are any inclination, I will have a very busy household, yes I will. Dear LORD, please give me strength. Joaquin prayed tonight that God would give us "fortitude of mind" and that is certainly what I need. Perspective is something that I feel graced with in abundance these days, and I am very grateful... but I recall, not all that long ago, when up every couple hours, with hardly a good night's sleep for weeks on end, perspective can disappear as quickly as the coffee creamer in my fridge. So we look forward in anticipation, but this time with sober minds, and are assuredly better prepared. This third trimester has treated me pretty well so far, I cannot complain. I am more tired than a couple weeks ago, but am so thankful for my boy who naps, and that I can nap too.
We get asked how Max is processing the whole "baby on the way" thing, and really the answer is, he has no idea. We keep trying to teach him that there is a baby brother growing in momma's belly, but he seems non impressed at best. When we ask him, "Where is baby Isaiah?," he will lift up his shirt and point to his own belly. That is pretty precious if you ask me. I would not mind handing off carrying duties of busy little ZayZay (as Joaquin already affectionately calls him), to Max if he'd like... but that would be kinda weird.
Max continues to bring us such great delight. Daily I look into that little impish grin with those four pearly whites and big blue eyes and thank God that I get to be his mom. Lately he has taken to being more affectionate with me. My boy will come up after a long play session to give me a hug, and will grab both my legs, turning his little face up to me and say, "Ahhh, ma-ma-ma- momma" in such a way that melts me to the core. I puddle at his feet and kiss his sweet soft cheeks over and over, and run my fingers through those heavenly blonde curls of hair until he pulls away again to play some more. I am so thankful to be at home to care for him during these tender early years of life. I love to watch his imagination at work. From his "reading" books to his stuffed pals, to building things with blocks, to coming up with new and interesting dance moves. He is our quirky, fun boy, full of energy and curiosity for life.
Max has been more inclined to help me out around the house these days, and I am taking advantage of his helpful and curious little spirit in anticipation of days to come. I try to engage him in the daily tasks that I complete to teach him how to do things, and to give opportunities for praise and discipline. It is a wonder that one so small can learn the ins and outs of chores (to some extent). This does mean that my tasks take longer to complete, of course, but I gain such satisfaction in watching him follow directions, and then beam at a job well done. And goodness knows, it is getting harder and harder for me to bend over these days, so any little help is of great value. This evening, while hand in hand, and heading up the stairs to take Max to bed, he accidentally dropped his sippy cup and it rolls away from us. I heave a big sigh and ask the little guy to, "please pick up your cup for momma?" I was expecting that indeed, I would be the one retrieving that cup as his blue eyes looked blankly at me. But, no... In a flash that Elmo cup was swept up in a dimpled hand and the other placed back in my own to continue our trip up the stairs and I marveled. You see, life with a child is so beautiful. It teaches me so many unexpected things. My patience has grown by leaps and bounds as I give instruction, only to repeat it over five more times in the following three minutes. I am able to do this, calmly and cooly, not because it comes naturally, but because I love him so dearly and I want the very best for all of us. And as I have experienced so profoundly, that God is at work within me. When I am at whits end, unable to focus my eyes out of frustration as I face a boy's stubborn brow, hear him whine my name and then throw his food on my clean kitchen floor... It is by God alone that I take a deep breath and remember His love and patience towards me. My tone softens, my hands go back to work and continue as I ought. I want to prepare Max for future things, for times when he will have to make decisions without me, and for times when he must in turn do something in service to another out of love for them too. Joaquin and I so look forward to giving Max this huge blessing of a brother to love. We already talk to Max often about how much he will love little Isaiah and how they will be great friends. We tell Max that he is a great big brother, and I smile just at the thought of my two boys playing side by side in a day not far away. There are so many good times ahead, and I count them up and tuck them away in my heart as I prepare for the hard work of having a new born in our home again. :)
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