Five on Friday

It's that time again!

If you follow me on Instagram, you have likely seen a few of these already.

Here's to hoping they make you smile again.

One.

I've prayed for this - pulling up, standing, the beginning stages of walking. That Baker's parts, which were so beautifully crafted and so wonderfully made by our Father would begin working in symphony. Now that it's here, goals are being met, Baker is surpassing odds, I'm torn. It's a day of celebrating, but there's a small part of me that already misses the bitty baby whose little body molds so perfectly to mine. Thank you Jesus, for the time to hold my precious, and thank you Jesus, for your perfect plan for his life. May he always walk in You.

Two.

Hi Toofers!



My cheeser is a little beaver. One morning this week, I walked into Baker's room to the sound of singing and chatter. I was so excited that my little woke up on the right side of the bed and was showing all of the signs of his mommy's love for the morning. He was playing so happily in his bed, or so I thought. Apparently he was using his crib as his newest chew toy.

The conversation that later transpired with Baker's teacher involved words like "ingested large amounts of wood' "don't be alarmed" "wood chips" "in" "diaper."

I can't make this stuff up.

Three.

Fall made a very brief appearance over the weekend. It lasted long enough to tease me with the need for oversized college sweatshirts and throws while snuggled on the porch in the early morning sun with my favorites.

Fall, I love you. In the name of heated seats, teeming bowls of chili, lattes, leaves falling, football Saturdays, come back soon, please. 

Four.

My sweet Baker, you are my brightest sunshine. You make me happy when the skies are gray. You make my heart smile deep down to its very depths. You breathe life. You speak joy. You smile and my day is made instantly better. You cry, you cough, you stand, you sing, you fuss, you eat, you dream, you inspire. And I am affirmed in my role as your mommy. The Lord daily reminds me of His faithfulness through your sweet spirit.



Sometimes I let the days pass too quickly. I rush this way and that. I get impatient. I get overwhelmed. I pack macaroni and cheese or Spaghettio-s instead of vegetables or cutely cut sandwiches that correlate with your letter for the week. I let weekdays pass in hopes that the weekend will arrive sooner. I multitask. I neglect to be fully present all the time.

Thank you for loving me anyway. Despite my many faults. Thank you for giving me grace every single day.

From the tips of your tiny toes to the top of your head, and all of my favorite spots in between, I love you.

Five.

Baker has cut out his morning nap at Rise. As a result, he craves a power nap late in the afternoon just to make it through supper.

I gratefully drop everything. Let laundry pile where it may. Let the dishes multiply. And spend a few minutes of a very busy day rocking this little, committing his life and my worries to the Lord, and stare in amazement that he's really mine.