My Faith and Joy… and Boys!

Susanna (on right): “I love Sunday mornings.”

Rebecca (on left): “I think I have something in my teeth.”

Susanna: “I love wearing a dress.”

Rebecca: “Ooh…another foot to grab.”

Susanna: “I love smiling.”

Rebecca: “If you don’t quit acting so happy, Mom will never stop taking pictures!”

Rebecca (on left): “See?  Act casual…look away and pretend you’re not paying attention to Mom.”

Susanna: “Am I doing it right?” 

Susanna: “I am in awe of my mom’s mopping prowess.  I can (and will) eat off this floor!”

Rebecca: “Can you believe how clean my mom got this Tupperware?  I can practically see my reflection!”

Usually, when the girls wake up from their evening nap, they are Cranky with a capital C.  I don’t know what it is about that nap.  They almost always awake in a pleasant mood from their morning and afternoon naps, but come evening, they sleep beautifully for 45 minutes, and then wake up miserable.  I wouldn’t mind if they skipped that nap all together, but by 4:30 or 5:00, they’re yawning and rubbing their little eyes, so I know they need to rest.

Anyway, I use the 45 minute evening respite to prepare dinner, and always brace myself for the inevitable wailing that accompanies their awakening.  However, this evening after their nap, I heard a noise I couldn’t identify.  I tip-toed upstairs to their nursery and listened at their door.  I was so shocked I ran downstairs and got the camera to document this occurrence.  Look closely to find the girls in the following video – Rebecca is on the left and you can see the top of her head over the blue toy strapped to her crib.  Susanna is on the right and is peeking out through the crib slats (please excuse my shoddy camera work – I was holding the camera around the edge of the door for most of the video so the girls wouldn’t see me):

I could hardly believe they were laughing at each other!  Rebecca must have thought it was hilarious to see Susanna’s little face peering out at her from the opposite crib.  I sure hope that this is their new evening ritual.  Wouldn’t it be great to wake up every day and see your best friend smiling at you?  Actually, I feel blessed to be able to say that’s my experience already (of course, Jim isn’t smiling at me when I wake up – we usually exchange a groggy, bleary grimace as we realize it’s morning and we have to get out of bed…but I can say I wake up beside my best friend!). 

Oh, and isn’t the tree on the nursery wall beautiful?  I had seen a similar tree in a Pottery Barn catalogue last summer and had idly mentioned to my Dad that it would be great if he could replicate the pattern for the nursery, since he’s a talented artist.  Well, he didn’t let me down.  When he was visiting last year, he cut each leaf and branch painstakingly out of contact paper and then affixed them perfectly to create the tree silhouette.  Dad, you’re the best!

Rebecca (on left): “I’m helping to dry my sister off after her bath.”

Susanna (on right): “I’m pretending to be Casper the Ghost.”

Here’s a video of what happened immediately after this photo was taken.  Who knew I had bowling pins for daughters?

I find myself at a loss as to how to articulate what this Mother’s Day means to me.  I feel blessed beyond words that the Lord has granted me the privilege of having children.  Two healthy, beautiful daughters.  The fact that their arrival, to say nothing of their safe arrival, was uncertain for a time gives me an even greater appreciation of their presence in my life.  I believe that every life is a miracle from conception, and I am thrilled to be the mother of these two miracles. 

One of the (many) things I worried about while I was on bedrest was how I would mother these miracles.  How would I know what they needed?  How would I know how to give them what they needed?  Many people promised me that I would be infused with a maternal instinct that would help me navigate this new terrain.  When the girls finally arrived, although I was awe-struck and terrified to hold such tiny babies in my clumsy arms, I did indeed feel a certain amount of calm assurance.  Especially in the following weeks and months, I was amazed that I felt fairly confident about how to spend my days with my daughters.  Of course, I spent many an hour picking the brain of my sister-in-law, who patiently relayed her twin-techniques and encouraged me that it was possible to care for two infants with only my two arms.  But beyond the techniques, I was happy that it felt natural to sing to the girls, to cuddle and play with them.  I didn’t second-guess many of the mothering behaviors that filled my days. 

But I have come to realize that it wasn’t just instinct that guided my actions.  I wasn’t solely relying on an inborn, maternal urge.  I was doing what I was doing…because it had been done to me. 

I was a natural mother because my mother was a natural mother.  I know how to love my girls because my mother lavished unending love on me.  That’s why I so often find myself saying the same things she said to me.  That’s why I sing “All the Pretty Little Horses” to them.  That’s why it feels so familiar when I stroke my daughter’s face and smile – because I can remember my mother tucking me into bed, smiling down at me and stroking my face gently as she said goodnight.

On this, my first Mother’s Day, I am blessed to be a mother.  But I am also blessed to have a wonderful mother who not only gave me life…she gave me love.