Last week I was looking ahead in my calendar to this week. It was full. Super full. And the coordinating. Chaos coordinator for sure. I knew it would require all hands on deck. No problem. That’s how we roll.
And we managed. There were doctors appointments, dentist appointments, cross country practices and meets, church, parent-teacher conferences, basketball practices, cheer pratices, and even a lake day. Phew. Another week down. And I learned so much.
There is so much to take in. So much to process. On so many levels.
One of the highlights of my week has been Ryan and Alexa…
Oh man. Watching that does my heart good. Every time. There are the obvious reasons… An adorable daddy/daughter duo, a mischievous push into the lake and a water guitar. That is a formula for success for sure. And on that level, it was so fabulous.
But then my mind begins to spread wide. And I see the much bigger picture. I think back to 2 1/2 years ago. To an anxious little girl. We called her Lexi then. She had so much energy. As we all know, she still does. But back then, it was anxious energy.
Ryan has been such a huge part of calming that sweet girl’s anxious heart. He has loved her unconditionally. He has protected her. He has made sure that she knows that he is protecting her, that she is safe. He has sacrificed for her. And he has played with her. All children are so different. For our precious Alexa, play is important. And play with her dad, her forever dad, is something special.
And then there is affection. Ryan has been so careful. He didn’t want to force his physical affection on any of our children. But he is a wise man. He knows it’s important. So, slowly but surely he found ways to be affectionate with our newest additions. And they ate it up. Each one of them did. But most notably, Alexa. It is her happy place.
My low point this week came out of nowhere. We were having the nicest evening. It involved fettucine alfredo, breadsticks and gorgeous weather. I was cleaning up dinner and listening to James Taylor Radio at full blast. And most definitely singing along at the top of my lungs. “Silas needs stitches. Mom. Help! Silas needs stitches!” Well, so much for the perfect evening.
Silas most certainly did need stitches. As anyone would after jumping over a fence and landing calf first directly on a jagged bamboo stalk. He’s ok. All it took was a 5 hour trip to urgent care and 7 stitches. Yeesh.
Close calls. So many close calls. When you have five children, you are basically living on the edge. I try hard to prevent the disasters. And I do. I prevent lots of disasters. (But not all. Just reference the above paragraph). Alexa asked me for a Q-tip yesterday. No problem. I figured it was for an art project or to prod a bug or something. But, in the spirit of due diligence I asked her why she needed it. “Oh. I’m going to clean Caleb’s ears. He has green stuff. Way down deep.” Um no. A true close call.
The in between moments contain so much. So much growing. So much learning. They are where we mostly live. We had our first cross country meet of the season. Silas, Cheyenne and Collin all participated. They were amazing. They did so well. But Collin. Pushed himself to his actual limit. He is not a runner. He is doing cross country this year because I asked him to. And I have loved being his coach. It’s a whole different angle on that sweet boy.
He tried to set a reasonable goal for his first 1 mile race. 12 minutes. Perfect. When I saw him approaching the finish line you could have knocked me over with a feather. He finished in 8 minutes and 25 seconds. He looked like death. For real. His face had absolutely no color in it. He was crying. His lips were saying “Oh no. Oh no.”
I met him at the finish line. And gushed. After he caught his breath he finally found some words. “I ran fast mom. The whole time. Because you told me I could do it. So I did.” I. Can’t. Even. There was a time that it was impossible to imagine connecting with this tender-hearted boy. And look at us now. I am so thankful for God’s provision of mother-son connections.
And finally, Prince Sniffy. Cheyenne’s hamster. She decided a few months ago that she wanted one. She saved her allowance and had “sales” on our street to raise the money for him (shout out to my VG neighbors who bought so many rubberband bracelets!) She built a cage with her dad out of a storage bin. She bought him and every single thing he needed with her own money…. food, treats, hides, a wheel, a play pen, bedding, a sand bath. That hamster is living in the lap of luxury. But, once he got home and settled, he wanted nothing to do with her. It was so hard to watch. Sadly, I can relate. So often in life our plans, the ones we are so excited about, just don’t work out. It’s the worst.
Today, we devised a plan. We set up the play pen and Cheyenne sat inside. We pulled him out of his cage while he was comfy and cozy in his favorite tunnel. We just went right ahead and put the whole tunnel in with Chey. Then, she began coaxing him. Peanut butter is what ended up doing the trick. It actually worked! He got comfortable with her. He crawled on her and around her. He tried out the hide that she made for him. Perfection. I am so thankful for God’s provision of a win for Chey. She needed it.
I’m also thankful for God’s perfect provision of highs, lows, close-calls and in-betweens. It’s how I learn best.
Sunshine Soldier 