I realized as I opened a new page to blog tonight that this is my 300th post, and that probably warrants a little effort on my part to come up with something thoughtful. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to write about, only that I feel an intense need to write about my babies. And those babies are the reason for this blog- to document their childhoods and my journey of motherhood, so I don’t forget all the little moments that matter so much, but are so quickly forgotten unless they are written down.

Today I was filling out the form to participate in PAIL’s Monday Snapshot and got stuck on the question asking me for one word that describes me. My first thoughts were”tired” and “disheveled” because well, yeah, TRUTH, but that probably isn’t exactly what they are looking for. Then as I focused in on my two year old sucking his thumb in his still-beloved baby gym while listening to his still-beloved Veggie Tales and my four week old sleeping peacefully in her swing, I thought- blessed.

These children of mine are exhausting, both physically and emotionally, but they are also more precious and amazing than I could have ever hoped for. And that I get to stay at home with them is a blessing I need to be sure never to take for granted.

Grayson is heartbreakingly difficult to spend long days with. He is fussy, loses his balance and hurts himself a lot, and his body is heavy, stiff and very hard to hold. He is so limited in his activities and is outgrowing his baby equipment rapidly. We are in a phase where he hates baths and is waking up crying several times a night (and is under the ridiculous assumption that 4 am is an acceptable wake up time). It’s hard.

But Grayson is also incredibly sweet, loves to laugh and be sung to, and mercifully still goes to bed between 5:30 and 6:00 pm.  He adores his swing, his music, and riding the elevator in Grammie’s house. He now goes to school 5 days a week and is thriving on the schedule and stimulation  he gets there.

For 28 months, Grayson was my baby boy. But now, suddenly, he’s been transformed into my big kid. Becoming a Big Brother has truly made Grayson BIG- his hands and feet, his giant diapers, his hair that grows at a pace way faster than I can think about making an appointment to get it cut. And what the heck, he’s even driving!

No, my baby boy isn’t so much a baby any more, but he’s here, and he knows how much he’s loved by so many.

Charlotte is truly my gift from God. My counselor told me last week that God knew I needed a little girl. And I’m realizing how much I really did want her to be a girl, even though having a daughter is both amazing and terrifying. And, as I’m learning, expensive.

These past four weeks have been my chance to truly relish the newborn phase. With Grayson, I was so happy and excited to have a baby, but spent much of his early weeks and months worried and afraid. He was so little I was always terrified he was going to slip through my arms as I carried him across the room. I constantly worried about how little he was eating, how behind on the growth chart he was, and what milestones he wasn’t meeting. With Charlotte, I am so much more relaxed and I have been conscious to enjoy these days and pay attention, because I know how fast they go. We have spent hours and hours just being still, her head on my chest as I breathe in her intoxicating newborn scent. Most nights, she spends at least a few hours asleep on me instead of in her bed, because I just want to remember her smallness.

Charlotte is already learning to go with the flow, and is so far an incredibly content, chill baby. She rarely cries and is happy as long as she’s warm, cuddled and fed. I prayed for a baby who would eat, and I got one. She eats and eats and eats, and then eats some more. She truly is healing me from two years of constant feeding struggles and worry.

This baby girl- not my plan but God’s, and His plan is always so much sweeter than mine anyway. I just couldn’t love this little angel more.

Yes, definitely blessed.