From Newborn to Nurse

When you were a newborn, you were also my first born.  As my passion has always been writing, I have many pages dedicated to your life and zero pages dedicated to sibling #4.  I will rectify that, but here’s the point: I have truly known you from the beginning, and seeing you now—grown up and graduating—doesn’t surprise me.  You’ve discerned your path to pediatric nursing.  Looking back, some of the highlights from my writing over the years could have predicted that.  Here are some notables:

• ·   “You are such a sweet girl.  You make me laugh 70 times a day. You are extremely compassionate, which is the first trait I set out to teach you. For example, you sing to Jessica when she cries; you pray for all those involved when you hear a siren.”

• ·   “You are very considerate of others.  You worry when people are sick or when kids cry.  You are concerned whenever you watch me have a blood draw.”

• ·   “You are still a truly remarkable child.  The hand of God is upon you, I see it often.”

• ·   “You are becoming a beautiful young lady, both inside and out.  You just keep blossoming in new way after new way.  I hope you believe me that others see you as a leader—perhaps a quiet leader, but as someone whose example is to be followed.”

You have worked sooooo hard in your studies.  You will move to Kansas City soon enough—right now I am consoled that you’ll be home for a few weeks.  I know nothing about nursing.  The only advice I can give is to pray and stay close to the sacraments—and know that you are positively impacting the little lives you’ll touch.  I love you.

Whatever your task, work heartily, as serving the Lord and not men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward; you are serving the Lord Christ.

—Colossians 3:23-24

On Mustard Seeds and Matriculation

Dear Jessica,                                                                

Congratulations on achieving this major milestone, your high school graduation.  You haven’t decided what you’ll study next, and that’s okay.  In several ways you’re living a blank slate right now, making this a time of particular opportunity. 

There are many things I didn’t teach you, but I know you’ve learned the most important thing:  God loves you unconditionally, and no matter what your future holds, you have a home in His Church.  Despite all my omissions, under God’s guidance I did hand you the seed of faith, which I can see growing inside you, and which actually gives you everything else with it.

 “For truly, I say to you, if you have faith as a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from hence to yonder place,’ and it will move; and nothing will be impossible to you.” --Matthew 17:20

You’ve brought me great joy over the years.  I wish that I could hold back time.  I would hold on to you with all my might.  But that wouldn’t be God’s plan.  So, onward—but please look backward, every now and then, at our time together with fondness and forgiveness.  I love you so much.

Many blessings,

Mom

On the video:  I couldn’t resist putting this together.  I hope you like it.  Despite the many smiles you’ll see, your path has not always been easy.  Blood draws, a spinal tap, eye surgery, and an especially frightening major choking incident—all before you were six.  And of late…disappointments and strained relationships.  And, (spoiler alert) it doesn’t get easier from here.  I will always pray that you see Him in the midst of it all, that you’ll look up, and that you’re Better For It.

The New Adjective

In 2012, for our 20^th anniversary, I described you in the following way:

• ·  Strong
• ·  Committed
• ·  Logical
• ·  Very funny
• ·  Smart
• ·  Calming 
• ·  Generous

And so you have continued to be for the past ten years.  But they’ve been ten long years, the most difficult of our lives.  The challenges have been many and exhausting. God has strengthened our perseverance and honed our ability to forgive, every day. 

The adjective I would add to the list now is:  devoted.

You are devoted to my health and well-being.  You are devoted to the goals we have set for the growth of our children, even when it feels like we’ve failed every day. In other words, you are devoted to your vocation.  Devotion is love in action. You know the final goal, heaven, and you consciously work toward it for both yourself and our family, every day.

For 25 years you focused on the role of provider. In the last five you have become more and more attentive to the role of protector.  I appreciate everything you do to keep us prepared for whatever the future may bring.  I love it when you tell the boys that they need to learn to be my protectors.  That may be truer than we know someday.  I am grateful that you are teaching the boys to become virtuous, strong Catholic men and that you are showing our girls what to look for in a husband should they choose marriage as their vocation.  They all absorb more than you think.

There’s so much to do and so little time.  Let’s keep our eyes on the four balls that we juggle, every day.  Let’s keep fighting the good fight—because it is a fight that, with His help, we must win.

"Let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith."  --Hebrews 12:1-2

I hope you enjoy this video of memories from the past ten years.  Look back at the first twenty here.

Counting Down

Our family needs a little levity right now, soooo:

Seven things I didn’t know about parenting a male toddler:

7.  Working hard to keep his language skills on track would result in a two-year-old who talks, at boy volume, all. the. time.

6.  Baby-proofing would include every surface in the house, no matter how high, because any item he can stand on would serve in his quest to reach that empty milk carton in the middle of the kitchen island.

Yes, he is balancing on one foot, and yes, he moved the full bottle across the room.

5.  My girls’ beloved Pooh Bear, kept in pristine condition for almost nine years, would eat yogurt.

4.  You must take what you think would be a normal food serving for a two-year-old and multiply it by…boy.

3.  After venturing forth into the toy car it would take less than 30 minutes to go from that first tentative push forward with his feet to doing high-speed donuts on the patio.

2.  He would work for high-fives.

1.  It would take me all day long to get absolutely nothing done!  But I love every minute :)