Five Minutes
This morning Nate stumbled out the door for his first day of Kindergarten, driving with his daddy for 35 miles to school (where daddy is the HS asst. principal). He's done this routine before, so I wasn't all broken up by the milestone. No Hallmark moments at 6:30 a.m., sorry.
Since I was awake, with coffee in hand (and oatmeal!), I cozied up in my computer chair and updated myself on some friends' blogs. That led to others' blogs, which led to me finishing said coffee and oatmeal and basically whiling away an hour of early morning quiet. Then Maggie called from her new room down the hall (a fact that made my early morning hour at the computer even possible, since she just moved out of my office). So I scooped her up and brought her back to my chair for her first nursing of the day.
Usually she's fairly frantic for her milk, but as we sat down this time, she curled up with her face in my neck and rested. I marveled at her quietness, for it is highly irregular. After all, even Psalms affirms the restlessness of a nursing baby (in a backwards way), "But I have stilled and quieted my soul; like a weaned child with its mother, like a weaned child is my soul within me" (131:2). So, if a quiet soul is comparable to a weaned child, a restless soul is more like a nursing baby, right? Anyone who has breastfed knows that pulling a hungry baby into your lap means you'd better deliver the goods, or else!
But this time, for a space of maybe five minutes--which is a long time!--she sat with me, at peace, at rest. I marveled at her fine hair under my hand, the chubby fingers that gently scratched at my shoulder, the slobbery kisses she cheerfully rubbed on my cheek. I was able to thank God for this particular child, my daughter. With two older boys running around the house, I often forget to cherish the newest babe. So these moments were a gift from God, in which I was able to pray (quickly, for in some ways 5 minutes zips right by) for her, delight in her uniqueness, and concentrate on her alone.
After that, it was all about breakfast!
PS. Writing this post took over 90 minutes...I've fed two kids and changed three diapers (yes, already) since I started typing.
This morning Nate stumbled out the door for his first day of Kindergarten, driving with his daddy for 35 miles to school (where daddy is the HS asst. principal). He's done this routine before, so I wasn't all broken up by the milestone. No Hallmark moments at 6:30 a.m., sorry.
Since I was awake, with coffee in hand (and oatmeal!), I cozied up in my computer chair and updated myself on some friends' blogs. That led to others' blogs, which led to me finishing said coffee and oatmeal and basically whiling away an hour of early morning quiet. Then Maggie called from her new room down the hall (a fact that made my early morning hour at the computer even possible, since she just moved out of my office). So I scooped her up and brought her back to my chair for her first nursing of the day.
Usually she's fairly frantic for her milk, but as we sat down this time, she curled up with her face in my neck and rested. I marveled at her quietness, for it is highly irregular. After all, even Psalms affirms the restlessness of a nursing baby (in a backwards way), "But I have stilled and quieted my soul; like a weaned child with its mother, like a weaned child is my soul within me" (131:2). So, if a quiet soul is comparable to a weaned child, a restless soul is more like a nursing baby, right? Anyone who has breastfed knows that pulling a hungry baby into your lap means you'd better deliver the goods, or else!
But this time, for a space of maybe five minutes--which is a long time!--she sat with me, at peace, at rest. I marveled at her fine hair under my hand, the chubby fingers that gently scratched at my shoulder, the slobbery kisses she cheerfully rubbed on my cheek. I was able to thank God for this particular child, my daughter. With two older boys running around the house, I often forget to cherish the newest babe. So these moments were a gift from God, in which I was able to pray (quickly, for in some ways 5 minutes zips right by) for her, delight in her uniqueness, and concentrate on her alone.
After that, it was all about breakfast!
PS. Writing this post took over 90 minutes...I've fed two kids and changed three diapers (yes, already) since I started typing.
Comments
Inhale her, Kelley.