Minismith

…the newest member of the minismith clan. A lively, healthy baby GIRL!!!

We are still in shock. And giddy with excitement. As the technician announced the news, I was surprised by the warm tears that filled my eyes. It just felt too sweet. Like a gift too big. After all the pain and loss over the past year, Jesus was choosing to give us a healthy baby and the amazing gift of a daughter.

As we drove to our appointment, I couldn’t help but think about the baby we lost a little over a year ago. And though we won’t ever know for sure, a daughter we had named Mirabelle. Then I thought of Maisy. The daughter we had spent months preparing for and falling in love with. Suddenly gone a week before we were to meet her. And now, here sits our daughter. Growing, kicking, preparing to join our family in 5 short months.

He really does love us that much. He longs to lavish us. The falleness of this world fights against His love something fierce and until we head Home, we won’t know it to the fullest extent. But there are days like these, when the ferocity of His love breaks through and I am overwhelmed.

Already a feisty little one. Laughing as she kicks her mom, which she’s been loving to do lately. Here we go into Girl Territory!

Schooling…the latest topic on the round table of the Smith family. An issue we’ve lightly mused about and tossed around our grand ideas as the boys have been transitioning from babes to toddler to…well, now soon-to-be official school age children. I think we’re finding ourselves a little caught off guard by how quickly our tiny little baby Brighton has shot into a tooth-losing, book-obsessed, socializing almost-6-year-old. When did this happen?!

Last year we chose to put the boys in a great preschool down the road from our house to give me a bit of a breather. It had been a wildly intense past two years. And last summer, we realized I needed some recoup time. That time was simply God-ordained. Even though we faced even more twists in our journey this past school year – restarting the adoption process, being matched with our little girl, losing her in December, finding out a new minismith was on it’s way a few short weeks afterwards, and all the emotional footwork that entailed – during that time I feel like Jesus was helping me finally, finally take baby steps towards becoming a women of rest. Which does not mean crafting some sort of stress-free life avoiding chaos and the inevitable ups and downs, but rather learning to live out of a spirit of rest.

So back to schooling. We’re not sure what that’s going to mean for our family. After getting to know the personalities and learning styles of our boys better and seeing how much they learn through, well, just being boys – jumping, fighting, discovering, playing – things not typicallly encouraged in a school setting, started leaning towards homeschooling. And had hopes of starting this fall, with our newly adopted baby being at least 9 months old and with a mama a little less sleep-deprived. Then the pregnancy came and out of sheer emotional disorientation, we applied for another year at the boys school.

But recently that’s gone back on the table for discussion. For a whole host of reasons, that would be (and may be at some point) another blog post entirely. But for now, we are praying and seeking and waiting. As thick-headed as we’ve been in the past, we believe Jesus is slowly changing us and helping us realize He is ultimately the leader of this family. And has great things in store for us. Including how, when and where the boys are schooled…knowing full well that there is never any perfect answer or perfect way in this life. I’m not sure how much of the process I’ll share, as I know it’s a heated topic for everyone, but my disclaimer is that we’re just hoping and praying to do the best for our boys and the individuals that they are.

The biggest piece for me is to keep remembering that the only “best thing” for our boys ever in this life is simply what Jesus is leading us and them through. Not a method or a rule or a certain way of doing things. As a parent, it’s all too easy to confuse the two. And as Matthew and I have been learning ourselves these past few years, unfortunately “best” usually doesn’t involve the easy, safe route, which we so desperately want for our kids (and ourselves) at times. Instead it usually involves lots of bumps and bruises and going one way only to turn around and go the next. There are no absolutes, other than that He’s with us.

We’d love your prayers over the coming months as we wait and see where we’re led. And seek wisdom from our close friends who know our sanity levels well while ALSO believing in a big God to give more than we can ask or imagine when it comes to grace, patience, and energy levels.

As for the newest minismith brewing, tomorrow is our 18 week ultrasound. So cast your votes now, another minismithster or a minismithette?

I obviously don’t have time to do much of my own writing these days as much as I would love to. And even less time to be on the internet reading other people’s thoughts, as enjoyable as that pastime used to be. But there are a few people I can’t afford to miss out on. People I don’t personally know all that well, but whose hearts resonate with mine. To be honest, I rarely read linked-to blog posts myself, but these two are worth it.

The first, from Sarah at Every Bitter Thing is Sweet, on why we have to learn to adore in the face of daily life attempting to convince us we’re nothing but victims.

And the last, from Marisol of the Zoe Foundation, a fire-under-your-rear call to the church on why we’re all dragging our feet or defaulting to “someone else with more energy/money/patience/mothering skills” to open our homes to the fatherless.

Both are well worth the 15 minutes it would take you to read them.

As for the Smith clan, we’re plugging along. The baby is starting to make his/her presence know with sweet little kicks at 15 weeks. Our ultrasound is schedule for April 5th…minismith or minismithette, to be determined.

Brighton lost his first tooth today…or rather I popped it out for him. What a brave little man…and mama. Blood and popping sounds give me the heebie-jeebies.

Levi is recovering from yet another ear infection. And this mama is wading through some sort of virus. But we’re all alive and kickin’, anxiously awaiting the warmth of spring…the first signs of green in our new raised bed, the hydrangeas and peonies to start blooming, and the weary cover to be rolled back to reveal a sparklingly blue pool again. The weekend ahead promises 80 degrees, so we’re slowly beginning to believe spring is really here to stay.

My once-tiny, first-born Brighton is most definitely not a baby anymore. Upon turning five, it seems a completely new world – full of things he needs to learn about – has opened up. Some times it’s hard as a mom knowing what to share now and what to put on the shelf for another time. But there are those moments when you’re caught off guard without a chance to sort through now versus later. And you quickly find yourself floundering through explanations you wish you hadn’t started in the first place.

The perfect opportunity? Bedtime. When Mom is thoroughly exhausted from the day and inquisitive little boys will find any way they can to sidetrack the lights being turned out and bedtime officially beginning.

As a little preface, Brighton has this preschool science book with a section on “Where Babies Come From”. It’s extremely basic and elementary. At one point it has a cartoon picture of a mom and a dad holding hands. It says that to make a baby, you need a mom and a dad. Going on to simply state that the dad has sperm and the mom has an egg. Even though that is all it says, for some reason, Brighton has come up with on his own that that means when any guy or girl hugs or kisses, the guy gives his sperm to the girl. We’ve been trying to nip that misconception in the bud for obvious social reason. “Augh, Mommy! Don’t hug that man!” We’ve tried very simply explaining that it doesn’t work that way, and that at a later point, we will explain more than he’ll want to know about it all.

With that back story, here’s how our going to bed conversation went last night as I was tucking in my sweet, little, innocent 5 year old….

B: “Mom, wear is our baby going to come out of? Is it going to come out of your belly button?”
A: “No B, it comes out somewhere else.”
B: “Where?”
A: “Just a different place.”
B: “Well it HAS to come out a hole since it isn’t strong enough to rip open your skin. What hole is it going to come out of?”
A: “Well, Mommy’s have a special hole just for babies to come out of.”
B: “Where is it?”
A: “Buddy, we’re not going to talk about that right now. It’s a private place.”
B: “Oooh, near your bum-bum? Are you going to poop the baby out!?!”
A: “NO Brighton, it’s a different hole.”

(a moment of silence and obvious musing going on in his little mind)

B: “So mama, when I give you a hug or a kiss, do I give you MY sperm?”
A: (cringing) “Noooo buddy. Only a papa can give sperm to a mama AFTER their married.”
B: “So when I’m a Papa, I’ll give a mama my sperm?”
A: “Yeh I guess.” (SOB!)
B: “How do the sperm get to the mama. Does it just fly through the air?”
A: (OH MY GOSH, are we REALLY having this conversation?!?) “No buddy, we’ll talk about that another time. It doesn’t fly through the air. The papa puts it in the mama, but we’ll talk about that when you’re older.”
B: “Does he put it in her mouth to eat?”

At this point, I am DYING. Trying to somehow stop blushing and simultaneously not to burst out laughing.

A: “No, she does not eat it (giggle). But that’s all we’re talking about tonight. Papa will tell you more when you get older.”

He was SO not happy with that response, but I was SO not giving him the sex talk at the ripe age of 5.5.

I know every mom says it, but here I am…dumbfounded by the reality that my two little guys are growing and changing so much. Just in a few short years, they go from being so tiny and boring to being wild, silly, interesting little people. Time really does fly.

While we have been weathering some storms over the past few months, it hasn’t been all doom and gloom around the Smith household. This winter has offered us many sweet memories as a family and the opportunity to enjoy this silly stage the boys are in, as inquisitive 4 and 5 year-olds. Rarely a day passes without something ridiculous coming out of one of their mouths. If you don’t believe me, you really should start following me on twitter.

Levi, our wild little ham of the family, turned 4 years old this past Friday. Despite his love of monster trucks, Star Wars Legos, and all things boy…he adamantly insisted on a “Heart Birthday Party”, complete with a heart cake. No amount of coercion from his brother for a Lego cake or a monster cake could convince him otherwise. So a heart party is what we planned.

Fitting for Levi’s birth in Philadelphia, where we were dumped with snow for three months after his arrival, we received one of the best (worst) southern snow storms we’ve yet seen a few weeks before his big day. All winter he’d begged for snow, yet once it came, he safely stayed indoors sipping cocoa, while his dad and brother tackled a snow fort.

Other mundane happenings have included readjusting to preschool after a few weeks off (Wacky Wednesday helped in that effort), spending lots and lots of time with Legos, animal scavenger hunts, pulling out old toys and otherwise just creatively trying to pass these dreary winter weeks with two increasingly wild boys and a horribly morning-sick (aka: all day sick) mama.

I’m hoping to frequent the site more, now that our news is out and I can stop avoiding the large, awkward elephant sitting on my lap. Jesus is moving in our family and it’s healing for me to write about it, while I simultaneously have hopes that it might encourage a few of you all as we journey along.