My boys took off on bikes the other day, just to ride a bit around the neighborhood. I stood in the parking space in front of our home and surveyed the outdoor toy box, amazed at how many of faithfully-played-with contents have gone unused in the last year or so. It hit me like a ton of bricks: they are growing up. I have known this, of course. But it seems that all of a sudden, the two of them, Jones and Ezra, have left one magical stage for another, and I will never again have only little children in my home. I wanted to cry, but there was no time — Harper needed help with something.
And so it was, as Bryan was taking the middle two up to bed the following night, that he found me in a heap of sudden tears. I think he thought I was in physical pain and was relieved to hear me say, “They are just all. so. big!” He smiled, and I cried a bit more for their hugeness and the strange nature of wanting time to both speed up and slow down. I would die of exhaustion if they stayed little forever, or my psyche would snap in the midst of it: it would be hell. And yet, I am grieved to see the gangly arms and legs in comparison to the chubby baby nestled on my hip — only one more summer with a baby in my life. Only one more ‘first year.’ It’s all a little too much for my sentimental side. I think I need a good, long sleep.
Speaking of the first year, Ivy is learning to wave and to clap. She smiles at the familiar people in her life and seems to deeply process all the stories we tell her. At this current moment, she is propped in her bumbo, looking between the tapping computer keys and my face, in total awe of the sound coming from my fingers. Her smile betrays her thoughts: It makes noise! Did you know this? How delightful! These parts of loving a baby never get old, the continuous amazement at everyday things. The sleep and spoon-feeding, however, I could do away with. Nevertheless, she is a complete and utter delight, spoiled rotten by all five of us. The poor thing never has a moment to herself.
Now that she’s 6 months, going on 7, I have a bit more time and a bit more brain at my disposal, and so I’ve been making a summer reading list and diving back into books. I’m currently reading A Severe Mercy, just in the first chapter — its causing me to dwell on my own love story with that man in the back room bagging coffee beans and watching Jimmy Fallon, and how I fell inexplicably in love with him from the very beginning. The falling-in-love of it was all I imagined, from my end, at least. It was a shock, however, to be married and have total access to each other’s personalities, to see that his falling-in-love and mine were so very different. There was less romantic notion playing across the screen of his mind, and more logic. It makes me laugh now, how very good God is to help us think we know what we’re getting, so we dive on in, and then we see what we are actually getting, and it was exactly what He wanted for us. Someday, I will write on that.
For now, it’s cloudy (July in Japan!), dripping rain, and time for me to go.