Thankfulness

My heart is overflowing.

Spencer's face no longer looks like it's been scrubbed raw with a wire brush.  The cream and antibiotics are doing their jobs, thankfully.  Yesterday was painful for both of us - his face, my heart.  (These were taken with my phone; not the best quality.)

I have the best friends. Ever.  I hurt when they hurt.  They hurt when I hurt.  They come over and offer to help with kids or laundry.  They let me do the same for them.  They text for hours with me when they're driving (uhh, the passenger does the texting), asking questions about tough decisions they are making.  They love my kids.  They call to see how my sad little boy is doing.  Even the ones without kids get excited about the things my kids accomplish.

I love how Spencer sucks his thumb. He's so cute I could eat him, but I won't.  (I'm not a cannibal.)  I love how he smiles at his siblings.  I love how he has eyes only for Mama sometimes.  I love how he nuzzles me.  I would die for this little boy...and for my other two-legged treasures, too.

I love how Dustin said yesterday morning, "I don't want to go to school; I don't really like it," but then comes off the bus chattering non-stop about how much he loved it and about all the cool stuff he did.  I struggle with sending my kids to school vs. homeschooling... daily, I struggle... but I have not yet been released to homeschool.  I may never get to that day.  However, that my kids are learning and thriving under the care and guidance of some wonderful teachers - that they come home excited and brimming with new information - eases my heart.

I love how Meaghan is just a honey. Pure and simple sweetness.  We started potty-training her before Spencer arrived; probably around her 22-month mark is when we started.  Maybe sooner.  I have pictures of her sitting on the potty at a younger age.  At any rate, we got her about 80% of the way there, and then Spencer arrived... and all bets were off.  I decided casually the other week that it was time to try again.  And... then one morning about a week ago, she woke up dry after 11+ hours of sleep.  A fluke, I thought.  But then she stayed dry all day, save for two little dribbles.  Then again that night.  And the next day.  Repeat, but with completely dry days and a full week's worth of dry nights.  Could it be?  Is my 28-month old really potty trained?  (Man, that was a lot easier than with the boys...)  She loves her stickers, she loves her undies, she lights up with the biggest smiles ever.  She is awesome.

I love Joshua's tender heart.  He is beyond insightful; what a gift.  The other day was Murray's birthday.  Murray was our best man in our wedding and one of Graeme's best friends; he was paralyzed in a car accident 12 years ago and died last December from complications after a surgery.  His birthday would've been September 15th.  The family was going to go to the grave site, bring cake, sit around, read Scripture, share memories, eat cake, laugh and cry.  They invited us along.  Murray's two little nieces were there also, so my kids were in good company.  At any rate, Joshua asked if he could read a portion of the Scripture that Murray's parents had picked out... he did a stellar job (my grade 2 kid reads at around a grade 4 or 5 level)... Murray's mom said, "Murray would've been proud."... that night, Joshua asked question upon question:  "Why did God choose Uncle Murray?" - "Why did Uncle Murray have to suffer?" - and others - the whole while, sobbing.

I love how Graeme takes care of the three big kids so I can spend some quiet time with Spencer.  I love how he takes care of me.  He is a gift to me and to my children.  I have it pretty good.  Our marriage is not perfect.  We struggle.  We don't see eye to eye on everything.  But I still have it pretty good.

Life is hard, but it's worth it.  God has been gracious to me.