Hold On. Let Go.

I'm not really sure why I fight the things that I need the most. Like my Levi fighting sleep during nap time, or the way my sweet nephew Jude struggles and bucks in his mama's arms when she tries to get medicine into his little mouth. Lately that's me. Twisted up and gato-rolling rather than dealing with the stuff. I wonder what will happen if I slow down enough to examine it all. Will I ever be able to pick up this pace again? The need is real; to wade through the mess to weed out what's junk and what's treasure. I need to do the work. But I'm so tired. I've been trying to get a blog out Tuesday mornings. I couldn't make myself do it last week. I fought it- the medicine I needed- to dive down the rabbit hole of thoughts and words. Everything that came to mind seemed like a bummer, so heavy and deep, and that's not exactly accurate when you hold it up to the picture of what our life is like right now. I feel like we've been trudging in shoe-sucking mud. Progress is being made, but it's slow and messy, exhausting and taxing on the body/mind/spirit/heart. The triumphs are fluorescent- shining with victory. Defiantly hopeful in the face of it all. Even so, I'm leaving the unpacking for another time.

What would make my soul soar right now would be this; to just take minute and relish the sweetness of Levi William at 3 years and 9 months old. Y'all. He's a dream come true. His lashes have mamas on the playground patting me on the back- whether they're congratulatory or consolatory I'm not sure. His daddy wants us to grow out his mop of thick, rich brown hair longer for the winter months. We're well on our way. It's starting to curl up on the ends. That smile of his- charm and innocence and mischief all co-mingling leaving me a puddle on the floor. Mike and I just delight in the way he winds up his whole body as he runs, and the way he uses inflection and tone just stunning us with his intrinsic sense of humor.

He's been sleeping on a pallet in our room pretty often lately, needing some respite at the end of the day and a place to be still and quiet. There have a been some nights that the pallet just won't do. I love it. He cuddles up close and whispers 'I love you' as he turns over in his sleep. After I saw the girls off to school one morning last week I got back under the covers just to take in some more time with him before the day ran away and stole more of his toddler-hood. He was awake and I said, "Levi, you make me so happy." He quickly responded, "Aw! You make me happy too, mom!" with the cutest grin and his eyes all squinty. Delicious. He's just scrumptious.

Lately we've discovered that our Tank is an introvert. It makes sense that we wouldn't have noticed before- his older siblings are willing to play when he wants to, and leave him be when he doesn't. Now that he's got a buddy 24/7, we've had to make some adjustments based on what's best for him. He likes being alone. Not all the time, not even half the time. Sometimes. He looks at me with a strained expression and asks if I'll please let him upstairs alone to play. Up he goes and I close the gate behind him. A while later, he comes down with some pep in his step and ready to play.

Some of our favorite Tank-isms:

"Is that funny? Yes or no!"
"I yubt you!" (I love you)
"Dad! There's water in my peepee!" (Needs to go potty!)
Me: You're my favorite! Levi: Yes. I am!
"In just a minute?"
"I am your favorite."
When we answer a question for him and he GASPS.
Um! Nope.
I awake now!! Hey mom and dad! I awake now!
I need breakfast!
Can I hab a snack?
Do we hab toot-ties? (cookies!)
I need my docket (rocket) backpack!

There's so much more. The slice of time we get to enjoy them in this whimsical state- our babies straddling the arduous responsibility that accompanies each birthday and the buoyant brilliance they arrive with as they devour the world with their wonder and awe? It's a meager slice, slipping through our greedy fingers, lost in the hustle of finding shoes and wiping noses, doling out one more snack and digging deep for that self-control to be consistent through one more tantrum. I'm taking my best shot at finding my footing on the balance beam we all walk as parents- cherishing each remnant of their baby-hood even as we cheer their strides in independence.