Wednesday, October 3, 2012

One Of THOSE Days...

Today quickly became "one of those days". Days when the babies aren't contented. When I'm arguing with my older child about how long her shower is. Teeth don't get brushed (mine nor my children's). Days where hair gets washed, but styling is interrupted by the cries of babes whom weren't supposed to wake yet. Spit-up overflows. Exhaustion from a night of crazy animal commotion takes over. (They're partiers at 4am.All of 'em.) Tears fall. Lunch is late. (Dinner unplanned.) Bickering begins. Coffee maker doesn't work right. You know...one of "those" days. We all have them.
And then this afternoon it's as though the dear Lord reaches down, quiets the chaos and reminds me...all is still well. The sun shines brighter. Babies giggle. Children play cooperatively outdoors. Household chores get accomplished.
In the chaos of today, I fight hard to see the joy. To appreciate the littlest of littles. My mind went to a little poem of sorts that a dear, sweet lady from church gave to me, shortly after I birthed the boys. I so needed to have it refreshed today. I need to be softened. Reminded of the bigger picture. This busy, crazy life is indeed just that at the moment...busy. And crazy. Hubs and I find ourselves from time to time staring at one another...wondering...just what were we thinking?! But I choose to be thankful for all of it. It is but for a moment. No regrets whatsoever. No matter how much I joke.

What Is a Baby?
A baby is a delightful, diapered delivery, delivered by firm, experienced hands into trembling, inexperienced ones.
Babies come in assorted sizes and weights, and are equipped with a shrill mechanism, commonly called "lung power". Girl babies usually outnumber boy babies at birth, out-talk them as toddlers, outdo them as adolescents, outwit them as young men and women, and finally, have the last word by outliving them.
Babies usually arrive one at a time, but some of the more companionable type come in pairs or trios. Most babies time of arrival is strictly guesswork, and they manage to foul up more date lines than a cub reported on his first assignment. They are far from being a conventional group when it comes to putting in an appearance. They have been known to arrive in taxis, department stores, on street corners, in airplanes and elevators. The less adventurous ones arrive in hospitals. Once in a while, a baby will arrive with several teeth and an appointment at the local barber shop, but most of them stick to regulations and are of the toothless, fuzzy dome variety.
The majority are untrained, unreliable, and thoroughly unregulated. You find that the cherub who grinned at you so sleepily through the plate glass hospital window has suddenly turned into a screaming, red-faced, arm and leg waving, wide-awake rebel who turns your home into a laundry and your kitchen into a scientific laboratory for gallons of formula with by-products of broken bottles, hissing sterilizers and scalded fingers.
It is a proven fact that babies are born scene stealers. For this reason, actors despise them, parents humor them and grandparents adore them. They are a plague to older brothers and sisters and a pleasurable profit to the baby industry. They are quite proficient at drooling, looking cross-eyed, sucking thumbs, fingers and toes, throwing cereal, holding their breath and testing new teeth on antique furniture of wealthy relatives.
There are many things that a baby can help parents to accomplish, like a raise in salary, a tax exemption, or meeting new people, such as the pediatrician, druggist, and endless numbers of baby sitters. The list goes on forever!!!
A baby is many things. He is the picture in someones pocket, and the dream on someones eyes. He is the eternal miracle in an age where miracles are almost forgotten. He is the laugh in a mother's voice and the hope in a father's heart. He is beauty wrapped in a blanket, destiny pinned in a diaper. He is a dimpled smile with a damp posterior. He has the fragility of a rose and the unbreakable sturdiness of a weed. He is the unquestionable Majesty of all the surveys, the future ruler of his country.
There are many ways to say what he is, but none more simpler than this: He is love.
As the end of the day, when the last diaper has been folded, and tomorrow's formula stands ready and waiting, you wearily turn off the lights and climb the stairs. Then, you pause for a moment at the nursery door, and quietly tip-toe over to the crib. You look down at the tiny pink fist poking out from under the blanket. There is a sudden throbbing ache in your throat, and with a rush of maternal pride, you brush back the warm curls, and feel the softness of his skin. You bend to kiss him gently and suddenly all the work and worry is forgotten in this one priceless moment with your baby.
 
True enough. Five times over true enough.


No comments:

Post a Comment