it's seven o'hug

Gagey steals my watch - & straps it onto his sturdy little man-wrist.
"Sloan!" he exclaims, looking studiously at the numbers, "It's seven o'hug!"
With abandon, he flings his three year old self into her waiting arms. He melts into her as she so gently circles his frame. They snuggle on my bed, and she breathes half to me, half to his white blonde head, "Best time of the day is seven o'hug..."
And He's held,
loved,
tenderly adored...
And then there was the moment of truth, when i was in Sobeys, picking up a few things for lunch. It was a mad dash with my two oldest girls, and we laughed as we chugged through that store, adding to our basket... "Sign here" the machine asked me...
i picked up the pen and began to scrawl, "Mom"...
Cairo laughed at me - because i am so used to signing their teacher checks in their LifePac's with this handle... that it seems to me that sometimes i no longer answer to any other name at all... and a tiny voice chides that i have no other identity that would give me a name...
But i do...
Have a name...
& He knows it -
& He whispers truth to me, using the words of the Psalmist;

"13 For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. 14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. 15 My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. 16 Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. 17 How precious to me are your thoughts,[a] God! How vast is the sum of them! 18 Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand— when I awake, I am still with you."

and He says to me, "i know you, loved one... "
& i feel myself held,
loved,
tenderly adored,
- just as my little one longs to be held...
at seven o'hug.

you're the one...

My motherly oldest tries to snuggle a wiggly one year old who is entering that age-old one year old's fight with slumber...
i walk around the corner and he pushes her mightily away, reaching, reaching, reaching for mama.
"i can't wait..." she sighs, resigned, as she passes him over to me, "till *i* have babies, and you'll be holding them, and they'll want me, because i'll be the mama..."
& i know that those days will come all too soon.
& so i let him bury his downy head in my shoulder - gripping my neck with chubby, clutching arms. i hold him close and drink in another one of these moments that are just too good to pass up.
These are the days when i'm rich with the moments... when i get to be the mama.

on my way...

to nowhere...

it's raining, it's pouring...

And it reminds me of dating neil... of the day we realized that we both loved the rain and we stood outside in it. My hair plastered down around my dripping face that he held in his sun browned hands in that torrential downpour when he kissed me.
What did we know then of our likes and dislikes? Us two, who were mere babes - thinking ourselves all-knowing and wise...
How did we not notice our glaring differences, our glossed over flaws? We never imagined we'd change from those two wet children - drawn to each other as 'like to like' - under the summer showers of growth giving rain...
i'm reading a book to the little ones, it's called _The Bridge_ by Jerri Massi. In it, the princess thinks her father's most trusted knight is betraying the king's confidence. She shouts arrogant rebukes at him, while he knows he is not betraying but rather loyally laying down his life for the sake of the king and his kingdom - choosing certain death so there is a hope of victory.
As the princess is carried off to safety, still shouting words of distrust and anger, the knight responds gently, "These words of yours have dropped to the ground between us. Think nothing of them when the time comes."
See that?
Foreseeing her remorse, he forgave her in advance...
& isn't that love?
Oh, Neil, forgive me...
Forgiveness is such a soul stretching thing & to give it without being asked....
is faith-building.
And so, instead of hissing, "You'll regret that... mark my words..." and stomping home from church wearing high heels, carrying a 20lb baby (hypothetically)...
i wanna be the kind of girl whose face he held so tenderly in his dripping hands... just as it all began... i wanna see kindnesses big - and flaws tiny. i wanna be able to let the hurtful words drop to the ground between us - and we'll think nothing of them when the time comes.

i'm in a season...

i'm in a season of schooling, cooking and laundry. i'm in a season of driving to lessons, to appointments and errands. i'm in a season of teaching to drive, of baby wearing and my street hockey boy. i'm in a season of crowded, noisy and sleepless.
And i know... that what i'm doing is important and valuable - and even amidst the occasional moments of drudgery, it's a beautiful little life... These seven children need me. They need me to work hard, to be a diligent task master and to gently lead them while i tenderly meet their needs.
There often isn't the time - or the energy - for girls nights out, coffee with other homeschool mama's, shopping with friends...
And that *has* to be ok.
i often hear quarrelling voices in my head - things i have heard like, "You need to make time for YOU, put yourself first - nobody else will, you need some "me" time..."
& maybe those statements are all... a little bit true.
But they do battle with the still small voice that bids me to lay down my rights - and care for these ones i love so very much - in this brief season of service to them.
Seasons come - and seasons go... there is much to be appreciated in this every day beauty of motherhood: My tiny son's shouted, "mama!" as he wakes from his nap, my jammy clad 'nearly teen' - who now stands toe to toe, and forehead to forehead with me as she wraps her arms around me - still needing to be held. My seven year old who sits too close, her hair done in tidy braids by my ten year old - whose earnest eyes beg approval. Sunshine boy - who told me, "i never wanna be five - i only wanna be free!" My oldest darling - who laughs till she cries - and then cries till she laughs... & my long haired boy - with his first short haircut - looking more and more like the man he will become.
i silence the doubts that point out all manner of "good things" i could be doing. i'll take those 'me times' when they come & enjoy them if they do... but not begrudge their absence when they've been pushed aside for worthier pursuits.
i'm in a season...
The air is sweet - the branches are beginning to bear fruit and though my body is weary - there is work to be done, and in this season...
i'll do it.