Remember that song? (I heart all things Rob Thomas and Matchbox 20.)
Sadly, the song is autobiographical, because that's when I got up this morning. 3 a.m.
With a sick, crying baby. That had thrown up. I cleaned her up, gave her some more tylenol and remade her bed, but she was too feverish and restless to go to sleep. I rocked her, walked her around, then she wanted down. She made a beeline to where Biniam was sleeping and stood there, lay her head down next to him, and started drifting off. Can you tell she loves her brother?
Then she proceeded to charge over to the play kitchen and start, well, playing kitchen. Hmmm. I scooped her up and took a gamble by laying down on our (white) couch with her. Where we proceeded to lay, with her drifting in and out of sleep, and me watching the news and reading, until everyone else woke up for the day. She hasn't thrown up since, thank goodness. And after our shower this morning, she was running around the house with toys, laughing, and watching cartoons. Nothing keeps this kid down!
Anyway, as I lay there in the terribly-early morning hours, holding my sleeping baby and listening to her breathe, I reflected on the fact that I'm really quite blessed to be her mom, the one God chose to hold her and rock her and care for her when she's sick. I heard something on our trip, on a Christian radio station, about womanhood and motherhood and what to do with your life once your kids move out. It was a conservative, traditional, evangelical Christian program so I was extra surprised to hear how they perceived motherhood, and the advice they gave to women to prepare for having an empty nest. Talk about missing out on the blessings God is giving you! It was horrible! If we're constantly resenting our kids and the way they've forced us to give up all of our wonderful dreams and aspirations...then maybe we're not seeing children, or ourselves and our roles, through God's perspective.
I can't say it's FUN when all you can smell is vomit, or when you've been up for 7 hours by 10 a.m. BUT, I'm realizing that God has actually used my sons' adoptions in many ways to show me that mothering is a GIFT, that these four children He's given me are GIFTS, and not something to be taken for granted--which I do, all too often.
But, by His grace, not last night.