GROWING PAINS

Olivia experienced perhaps her first real "growing pain" a few nights ago. It was bedtime in the "H" household and I told her she could stay up in her room and read or crochet until the baby had taken his bottle and was down for the night. Now the good thing is, you can just lay my Brando down and he'll find his way to sleep without a big fuss. The downside though is that cuts into our lullabye time together.

So tonight as he took his bottle in the chair in my bedroom, I sang him the songs I used to sing to Liv when she was an infant and toddler. When I returned to her room to tuck her in, she had been crying. It took her a good 10 minutes or more to be able to tell me why, though I had a hunch. Instead, she said, "Can we just cuddle a bit first?" And so we did. And when your baby is soon to be eight years old, that is emotional enough.

Finally, she spoke, ever so cautiously and through quiet sniffles.
"Those are the songs you used to sing to me when I was little." Nothing like making her momma sad with some serious nostalgia. I can remember being 2 years old. I can remember my 3rd birthday; what I was wearing, who was there, what furniture was in the rec room that day. I remember exactly what presents I got for my 4th birthday. I'm reaaally good at fond memories and now here my baby was, crying over the songs I used to sing to her. My heart could barely hold its seams together.

I began to explain our family's circle of love; how those songs rolled down from Liv to Reece to Cierah. And how baby Brando needed their comfort now, too. I told her that he loves his big sissy and that her songs are a connection for the two of them. And we talked about growing pains and how God purposefully prepares our hearts to be tender toward so many things. That we don't have to run from those feelings because God uses them to grow us ultimately toward Him and the image of his Son, Jesus.

And of course, I held her close and sang a few of those treasured lullabyes. By then, my heart was stretched to overflowing and I thought it just might burst.



Thankfully, her Daddy arrived home from work (having been stuck at work for 13 hours) because she was missing him too. I left them alone to talk about their day as I walked away with that deep awareness of love that cannot possibly be bottled up or adequately put into words.

You know, I used to cry over spilled Cheetos and get emotional over uneaten crusts in my lunchbox at school "because my mom packed them and I don't want to make her sad." (anyone with me here?) And in turn, my Olivia felt sad over the realization that a season of her own young life has passed. Who has the Kleenex box? Pass one, will ya?

But grow in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. To him be glory both now and for ever. Amen. 2Peter 3:18

Toni