Moses is one month old today. I can’t believe it. Everything still feels so new, and yet on my more exhausted days– only a month? Can’t we speed this up a little? You know, fast forward to the point where he sleeps through the night and I understand him better. I know, I know. It goes so fast and I should cherish it. And I do. But I’m also really, really tired. And if you’re one of the ones telling me how fast they grow (and believe me, I’ve noticed already!), I know you understand.
It’s funny, I really thought that after seven years of nannying and countless years of babysitting, I was prepared for this. You know, ready. No rose colored glasses here. I know exactly what I’m getting myself into and I know how to deal. Or at least that’s what everyone’s been telling me for the last thirteen years or so. And in some ways they’re right.
But seriously? I. had. no. idea. Yeah, I could probably win a diaper changing race, know how to spot a rash from a mile away, and I have tons of troubleshooting ideas floating around in my head at any given moment that Moses is crying. Sometimes they even work.
But there’s a really drastic difference between having a full time job taking care of your own kid and someone else’s. Namely– you don’t get to clock out. Ever. Your shift doesn’t end. Ever. Well, until you die that is.
Does that sound macabre? I don’t mean it to. It’s just that I’m feeling the weight of this gift I’ve been given. And it is a gift– a wonderful gift. Precious. Priceless. One I’ve watched and prayed and waited for. And I am so thankful. But it’s also a huge responsibility and I’m feeling the weight of it, at least in part.
I guess it’s just the Lord humbling me even further. Because once again, I’m at the end of myself and in desperate need of Him. And He gives more grace. It’s enough. He’s enough. Rest in the promises. Count it all joy.
Because it is.
At one month old, baby Moses…
– LOVES music. Especially hymns, Iron & Wine, and most things on The Current.
– can’t manage to go a night without one very long crying jag where it seems like he won’t stay asleep unless being held, rocked, and sung to all at once.
– can hold his head up surprisingly well! (I’m told this is a Maurer thing. “All the babies have strong necks.” So they say.)
– is already trying to roll over.
– likes tummy time… for a little while.
– is mildly dependent on Gripe Water.
– still has latch & seal issues with breastfeeding. Needs the nipple shield at every feeding. (Obnoxious, but still– grace.)
– loves his swing.
– still has hairy hobbit ears.
– is obsessed with his hands.
– is very strong!
– sounds more like he’s yelling when he’s crying.
– generally spends less time crying and more time vocally protesting, which sounds a lot like the sounds his Daddy makes when he’s displeased with something.