Life is Good: and messyNote: Well, hmmm! I wrote this a few weeks ago--okay, maybe more than a month ago?--but it appears that it must have been on one of those days that I was a little more sleep-deprived because instead of clicking "publish", I must have clicked "save" instead! Baby boy is really doing great at sleeping through the night most nights, so maybe it isn't fair to blame this one on him. But, I will! It's cumulative, right?!
I have a basket of clean clothes waiting to be put away, sitting on the buffet in the dining room. And one upstairs in our bedroom, too. There are dirty dishes from dinner in the sink. The dining room rug needs vacuumed. There are toys to be put away in two different rooms. If you know me a little bit, you know that this does not sound like me. This is not how I like to run this house. This is the stuff that makes me nutty.
It's taken me three days to mark one item off of my very long to-do list. I'm behind on doing our taxes. Okay, getting our stuff put together for our tax guy to do our taxes. I need to use a magic eraser on the wall going up the staircase. And I'm fat. I have baby weight to lose (ugh) and I've also been dealing with some extreme swelling. I mean, extreme. The kind of edema that hurts when you get down on the floor to play superheroes and hurts when you stand up to play Simon Says. The kind that make people's eyes bulge when they haven't seen you for a while. Nothing fits well and depending on the day and the degree of my swelling, some days, nothing fits at all. I've never been overweight and so this is a strange existence that I don't enjoy.
I have thank you notes to write and three Christmas gifts to mail. And a new baby gift. And a birthday gift. In fact, I still have about 20 Christmas cards to mail. Or maybe 40? Why is it so hard to pull out the hard drive, hook it up, and search for those addresses? I have friends' calls to return, photos to download, oh gee, the list goes on. This kind of disorganization plays havoc with my head. It's so unsettling. Now I have a headache.
And yet, I am happy. So happy. So absolutely, truly happy. In fact, I am the happiest I have ever been in my life. Really.
And it's not because everything is perfect. But everything is just right. I have this overwhelming sense that everything is finally how it is supposed to be. And I have three little blue-eyed boys and their daddy to thank for it.
I've found this sense of peace like I have never known before. It was a gift from our littlest one. His arrival, albeit surprising, has given me a sort of rest assurance. It sounds absurd and it is hard to articulate. It's like I've been holding my breath and now, I can let loose and...breathe.
I used to look at pictures of my two, sweet big kids and no matter how cute or funny or silly the photo, it always seemed like something was missing. Not that I am not absolutely grateful for those two big kids. Not that I haven't been utterly enjoying every single morsel of a minute of a moment with them. But still, it was like things were just a little off.
And now, our family is complete. Within minutes of the baby's birth, Grant said it aloud and the funny thing is, I was thinking it at the exact same time.
So this love letter is for our youngest. Don't ever doubt how much you are loved. Or how much you were wanted. Or how precious you are to this family. Or how very incomplete we were without you. You and your brothers are our sunshine. Our cherry on top. So I'm going to take a deep breath and try to savor each and every sweet moment.