I love when seasons change. In Louisiana, we are fortunate to have about 3 weeks of some "freezing" temps, 3 weeks of "cute spring", 3 weeks of "leaves changing" and the rest "It's too damn hot." But I still love a little change, and this past week was an abrupt kick to the shin with regards to cold. I'm a wimp, I'll admit it. The temps went from 85 to 44 in about 36 hours and this mama hadn't found cold maternity clothes OR up-sized the boys winter clothes into accessible reach for the morning routine. It did feel rather cozy though, to put a jacket on and wear sweat pants.
These past few months have been full of changing seasons on a whole different realm. Our 4th bundle has brought my hardest pregnancy yet, and I think it's a combination of being in my mid 30s, housing a growing life for the 4th time, and running after three little men. While some insist "OH IT MUST BE A GIRL THIS TIME" (let's not get ahead of ourselves), I choose to trust the reality. My body is tired and my mind is operating at about 45% capacity - all at the most intense time for my studio, as we build our whole 40+ pieces of new season choreography (set to compete December 1st). I get about 2 days completely off per month, but I can't complain. My job comes with incredible perks that would take me an hour to list. I have slowly started to see how this recent struggle just molds a new realization of "seasons" for my tiny world.
Briggs is obsessed with getting married. Within 2 weeks of school starting, he had already asked 3 girls for their hand in marriage. All of which turned him down...smart. He talked each week about each girl and discussed with me why she might have said no. The reasons ranged from "She just likes horses" to "she doesn't want to kiss me, but I don't know why not - she's 4 like me, momma." That comment surely forced me to hit the breaks down Florida Blvd. We've discussed how you decide who to marry (after College), when is the right age to have a girlfriend (after College), and how do you pick out a wedding ring (you take her to the jewelry store and let her pick out whatever she likes and you save your damn dollar bills until you have exactly that amount!). He got the courage up to ask a 4th, and what do you know - we have a wife. Glad he's happy. He also enjoys asking about age and "how old will Brannan be when I'm 25?", "Daddy, what was like it like when YOU were 25?" - to which Daddy explained how sometimes it's cool NOT to want to be older. "Briggsy, I would love to be 25 again." I chimed in, "Yeah, when Daddy was 25, Mommy and Daddy were boyfriend and girlfriend!" Briggsy giggled in the backseat, "But you still ARE boyfriend and girlfriend!" Thanks Briggsy - we needed that reminder. Don't we all? My middle love has taught me that LOVE should be what we talk most about. It's a season we need every minute of our lives.
This pregnancy has revealed to me a season of TRUST. From the spotting, to a placenta previa scare, to the early labor signs, to the checkups that proved to me that God had taken care of ALL of my worries - I know that trust is needed. That worry only makes those symptoms worse, and that He's got it all figured out. That I prayed for this 4th love. I prayed for all that comes along with it. And I will trust that this new life He's gifted to me is wholly HIS - I'm just housing it.
Understanding is the season that takes that rigid kick to the shin. Because when we are faced with situations where we want to scream at the top of our lungs, we surely aren't quick to soften our voices and understand the process. My children pick the most INCONVENIENT times to drop a #2. Right before a nap, right before overdue bedtime, on the soccer field, in carpool. Last night, Grayson decided he MUST take a crap while brushing his teeth before bed. Sure Gray, go ahead, get on the toilet. I go pee in the other bathroom upstairs because the 21 steps up is gonna do a number on my own bladder at this point. Only to come back to wailing brothers getting a kick out of a crying Grayson who happened to send his toothbrush swimming amidst the pile of shit. Somehow, I was a psychic at that moment, and knew what I was walking into before actually seeing the proof. I'm glad Briggs and Brannan thought it was so hilarious. I thought for a hot minute about attempting to just flush the toothbrush with the shit. But the pump failure of earlier this year brought me nightmares. So yeah - I dealt with it - reached in - threw it away - and washed my skin up to elbow about 3 times. Disgusting. I will never know why men get such a kick out of all things related to shit. Understanding - I need it. It's a season in this mama's life all too often.
3 nights a week, I come home so late that the boys are already sleeping. I can only walk up to their room, kiss their foreheads, say a prayer by myself, and go back downstairs to sleep. The other 4 nights, I try my best to make mama time as prayer time with the boys. No matter the struggles, I try my best to calm it down enough to pray with them. After an Our Father, one Hail Mary, and sometimes an Angel of God, I allow the boys to go one by one. Oldest to youngest. The prayers can range from thanking God for "my birthday party" to "mommy and daddy" to "daddy's tractor getting fixed" to "My tee tee is big" (Grayson....come on bro) I never know what will come out of their mouths. To hear BK3 pray tonight brought a season of HOPE. He said words that helped me see that he gets it. And maybe he's just repeating what he hears. Or maybe he's saying what he "thinks" is right. Or maybe his heart really is full of the love that's promised to us, and he's realizing it. I do not ask any questions; I just tell the boys thank you for praying with me. Kiss them goodnight, and back down to tackle that laundry list of to do's that I'm also learning just never end.
Today was actually a day of huge frustration where I told the boys that I was going to "take a day off as Mommy tomorrow" because they weren't saying thank you or appreciating the wonderful things their parents do for them. It was a true Monday no matter how hard I tried to flip the switch. From Grayson crawling into our bed at 2 am, to Briggs twirling his sock for 20 min this morning instead of getting dressed, to the missing Karate belt that I told the boys was their responsibility, to the extra flights of stairs I ran that I shouldn't have, to us being late everywhere we went. I told them that tomorrow's trick or treat would be canceled if they didn't make some big changes in the next 24 hours. Briggsy immediately burst out into "BUT EVERYBODY NEEDS A MOMMY!". And that was all I needed. To remember that these seasons of life sometimes all happen in one day: Trust, Hope, Understanding and Love. But it's up to us to seek it. They're all free gifts. So when we are tired, losing our hope, losing our patience, and losing our tempers, we must remember that our free gifts don't require a purchase. We must just take a deep breath, tell our heart to open back up a second, and let God take the reigns while we raise these humans to build a better world than we see today. Be grateful for the gifts. My gifts are being a wife. A mom. A sister, a daughter, a friend, and a teacher. How selfish of me not to be thankful? But then He forgives - so I breathe a huge sigh of relief and try again the next day. Seasons will come and go, but one thing remains the same - it's all part of a big plan that includes more joy than we could ever imagine. Even if that includes a tooth brush swimming in shit. I'll take it!
