My girl is nine today! By baby is nine today. Last single digit year! Whew! That is something, isn’t it?
She was actually born in this house. In the dining room, to be exact. Most moms can tell you the number of hours they labored, but I can’t with my daughter. (My son was about 39:45.) I don’t know how to calculate the time of labor with that girl. I did hard back labor three nights in a row with her, but experienced frustrating calm through the days. I labored Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday and she finally showed up Friday morning.
Most moms can also say at what time their children were born. I can’t do that with either of my kids. With my son, things were too dangerous and people were running around so busy that no one checked the clock. With my daughter, since we were at home, we had to go by my clocks—none of which are the same and none of which are accurate. So, she arrived on the scene at around 8:30 am.
It is because of her arrival that I began schooling my son. He was only two-and-a-half, but I wanted him to have guaranteed time with me each day. I have this ridiculous phobia about siblings not getting along or sibling rivalry. When we found out we were pregnant, we ran out to get my son a large, heavy baby doll. This doll was treated like a real baby. No dragging it around by an arm or leg aloud. I wanted him ready for the special care a baby needs so that he wouldn’t be shocked into resentment.
And we schooled so he wouldn’t feel entirely replaced or ignored by some baby. I am happy to say that my kids have a pretty good relationship with one another. They still fuss on occasion, but the frustrations do not define the relationship.
As they get older, I more and more see how I will be fading from the forefront of their lives. I don’t like it, but I am learning to accept it. I pray to always be close with both of my kids, but I am also working on giving them the gift of each other. I continually paint pictures of a future with them as close friends, loving one another’s spouses and watching one another’s children.
Isn’t it funny how birthdays play tricks with time? I stretch back nine years while reaching forward even further!
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