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We blessed our new little Ren in our church on Sunday. It’s a time that family comes into town and we get to celebrate this new little life by gathering together.
I knew there would be people around and pictures taken and I really wanted to get myself a new dress. Something that was new and fresh and that I felt beautiful in.
Unfortunately there wasn’t any time to go shopping and more unfortunate there wasn’t any time for an online purchase to be shipped.
The day came and I decided not to stress out. I was just going to enjoy the day. This was my fifth child and from the blessing days of my previous 4 kids all I had to show was very few pictures and a lot of worrying and planning about what to feed all who came.
It was perfect, I didn’t force anyone to wear anything particular, they (my kids) all wore what they wanted. I wore a dress that fit, that I could nurse in, and I felt comfortable and beautiful in.
My only request was to get a picture of my whole family together.
I have loved looking at those pictures knowing this is my family! They are my life!
I immediately thought of the painting by Angelica Kauffman: Cornelia presenting her children as her treasures (Art history nerd here.) and being overcome by the same feeling, these sweet babes that sometimes drive me crazy are the most treasured thing in my life. They are all wonderful human beings!
They are going to grow up and I will still get to be their mother, but right now my babies are still my babies so I’m resolving now to take more snuggles, read them more books, and when they tell me “no thank you” when I ask if I can brush their hair not worrying that they look like orphans while we are in public.
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Her hand grasps a fist full of my shirt as if she wants to pull me closer, look me in the eyes, and level with me:
Listen up, this is important, I need you. You are exactly perfect for me.
For most of us there is definitely an insufficient amount of sleep. Always.
When baby comes out and we gage whether that baby is good enough by if they sleep well. I guess you would describe every single one of my kids as bad kids/sleepers. For years I have woken up multiple times a night to either comfort a screaming child, or to return a child back to their bed who has been in my bed for who knows how long.