Hello, my name is Leilani. I have a baby and a toddler and it is kicking my butt.
Unrefined confessional over. More refined confessional to follow.
I hearken back to the days when I had just a baby (Amelie) and a toddler (Lia). It was nuts, difficult. I was unstrung and undone.
I think back to when I had a baby (Levi) and a toddler (Amelie) and I don’t remember much at all. Oh, I remember that we were on sabbatical when Levi was Kiri’s current age and that Devo and I together could barely handle that which is a pre-crawling 7 month old.
But I don’t remember the toddler/infant combo. That’s either self-preservation (I have excellent selective memory) or because Amelie was finally finally growing out of her fussiness and toddlerhood seemed easy in comparison with fussing baby.
But dang (oops, unrefined) right now we need three full time people to handle this. One for Levi, one for Kiri, and one for the big girls, the house and meals, and homeschooling.
Suffice to say, I lose it on a regular basis. I’ll spare you the gory details. Unstrung, undone, ugly.
And yet, there are still the precious precious moments when the clouds lift and for precious precious moments I am sane and whole and kind and in control. Moments where there is no struggle.
(Not this moment, might I say. Bedtime supervision has become equal to running the gauntlet.)
Moments where the deep richness and surpassing beauty of motherhood sinks deep.
Sometimes in times of trial and persecution we need a word. A word of truth or hope or kindness. This week’s word came under the trees, in the freshness of the evening.
…whoever loses her life for my sake shall find it.
I’m holding tight to that right now.