Christmas 2013

It's the morning after Christmas and I am still curled up in bed, wrapped in blankets and watching a little girl sleeping next to me, after having a restless night herself.

Thinking about yesterday, her very first Christmas. Feeling it in my heart, finally.

I always seem to set up some sort of expectation of what a special day is going to be like... Whether it be birthdays, Christmas, anniversaries, whatever. I always want it to be magical, special, and something that feels real and deep... Something tangible that I can feel way into the center of my heart. A day where everyone I'm with or everyone I'm thinking of feels special, everyone is sure that they are loved, and they can feel it deep in their heart, too.

I just want it to be perfect.

But sometimes, a lot of the time, I let my expectations get in the way of it being perfect. I'm so worried about feeling it they way I imagine, that I don't give myself the chance to feel it the way it is.

Yesterday was Addi's first Christmas, and yet another Christmas spent away from mine and Matthias' families. There were so many emotions running free in my heart that I couldn't really sort trough them and figure out where I was. Aren't moms supposed to cry when their baby crawls out to the Christmas tree early in the morning? Aren't I supposed to take a million pictures, smiling through tears of joy? Should I have done more for my husband, even though he says he didn't want gifts? Isn't there supposed to be snow? Why aren't my parents and siblings all gathered here with me?

So many emotions, and I was letting all of the questions get in the way of what was truly happening...

...the joy in my husband as he woke me up, video taping every moment of Addi's first Christmas morning.

...hearing the words "you're beautiful" as I tried on a new sweater.

... watching my daughter fully concentrate on ripping one piece of wrapping paper at a time, slowly until a toy or book appeared. And the constant chewing on the paper.

... spending the evening with friends who have truly become family.

... Kidding my Addi and husband goodnight.

... And the realization that a long time ago, a mama grew Love inside her, and a baby was born in a cold, dirty barn.

He was born for me.

For my heart and for my soul.

So, Christmas was pretty perfect. 

Oh, let us adore Him.

Nine Months Old

To my Addi,

As of this month, you've officially lived outside of my body for just as long as you lived inside of my body. It's an unbelievable thought, to know that you have been alive, an actual part of me, for a whole 18 months.

That's a year and a half of knowing you, after a lifetime of waiting for you.

What a beautiful, uncertain, exciting year and a half it has been.

At nine months, you are filled with more energy than I ever thought possible. Your laugh is so crazy, so forced, so sweet. Other than your occasional tiny and natural giggle, you usually yell out a quick and scratchy "AH! HA! HA!" when you think something is funny. And it cracks me up. I have learned to laugh right along with you, this special and silly way that you laugh.

You are a hide-and-seek and peek-a-boo expert, starting the game multiple times a day, on your very own.

This month, we've learned that grains are not for you. At least, not yet. Maybe we'll try again next summer.

You are certainly not the most patient baby, but I should have anticipated that, huh? You take after your parents, I'm afraid. But we're working on it together, all three of us.

You sign for "more" when we are eating meals, and you understand words like "music" "nurse" "Daddy" "outside" "where's Addi?" "no ma'am" and "dance"

You are proud of yourself when you pull up and stand on your own, and when you dance on your own.

While I'm in the kitchen, you are always crawling under my feet and climbing up my legs, asking to be held.

Your way of greeting us when we wake up in the morning, or pick you up, is to slap us out of pure happiness. You get so excited that you can't help but hit us on the shoulders, chest, and face. Over and over and over again, until you feel like your joy is sufficiently conveyed to us.

As a result of this (and quite a few scratches) we are diligently working on the word "gentle" and teaching you what it means.

You have started eating your banana and avocado 'like a big girl' in small chunks... Practicing picking them up and getting them successfully into your mouth. Some of your favorite foods are egg yolk, sweet potato, banana, squash, and raw, grass-fed butter. You aren't a fan of raw yogurt, but I'm not giving up very easily, and your feelings about apples and carrots change each day.

Our prayer over you, this month, is that you grow to be kind. Kind to people you know, kind to people you don't know, and kind to them whether or not you like them. It is something that your Daddy and I work towards daily, but I know that it is what God has asked of our family. So, we press on in the discipline of our own behavior, praying that we will be parents that show you what true kindness and true love really looks like.

Happy mine months, sweetheart.

I love you so much that it physically

hurts, sometimes.

Love, Mama