Wednesday, May 29, 2013

Blessed Baby Boy (our Luke)

Luke Wesley Perrin
May 16, 2013
5 Pounds 15 Ounces
20 Inches Long
Adored by Boss, Mama and
big siblings Emma, Kate, and Jack

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

A Letter to Luke

Dear Luke,

Tomorrow will be one of the very best days of my life. Tomorrow will be your birthday. Tomorrow can't come soon enough.

For nearly two weeks I have not written in this space, but have instead been silent, my heart and mind able to focus on nothing but your coming. How does a mama properly prepare to meet the newest love of her life? How does she savor the final days of carrying her baby inside, her belly heavy with child? How does she store deep in her heart the way that it feels when her son moves inside of her and how can she hold on to the feeling of the gentle sway of his small body as he shifts? These things my heart wonders. So I have been silent. Content to simply take it all in, as tonight you rest under my heart, yet tomorrow, Lord willing, you will rest in my arms. Tomorrow can't come soon enough.

These past two weeks have been long ones. My body is tired. Sleep has not come easy. There were many nights where I thought tonight is the night he is coming! only to wake the next morning disappointed. It has been emotionally draining. For so long now I have wanted to meet you. And tomorrow I get to. Tomorrow can't come soon enough.

I wonder what you will look like, my sweet child number four. Will you have hair? Dark, thick brown hair? Or some other color that would be a marvelous surprise? Or perhaps you will be beautifully bald. Emma and Kate cannot wait to meet you. For sure you will be smothered in love by those two who have already dubbed themselves your second and third mama's. Jack cannot wait to teach you how to eat ice cream and how to fake burp. Such serious things a young boy must learn from his big brother. Your daddy cannot wait to hold you. I know he will cry when they place you in his arms. He always does. And me? I cannot wait to see the blink blink blinks of your baby eyes as you take in the new world around you. I cannot wait to stroke your soft skin, to nuzzle your small body close on my chest, to breathe in your baby smell. Tomorrow can't come soon enough.

Luke Wesley Perrin, never doubt that you were wanted from the very beginning. Never doubt that you are loved. Forever and ever. You are my son. The baby that I prayed for, that my heart desperately longed for. I love you to moons on sticks and back again.

Tomorrow can't come soon enough.

Love, Mama

Thursday, May 2, 2013



One of my biggest failures in parenting has come in the form of screens. My children's small faces have been in front of them far too often. It was especially bad last year. Our old life on Fieldcrest Lane was quiet, mostly retired couples on our street, no other children to play with. So my children stayed inside. Sure, they played with each other, but when they grew tired of toys the screens came on. And I allowed it, even though my heart was against it.

But here? In this new space? Life is more as it should be. Spring has finally sprung in Ohio and my children are soaking up the first warm rays of sunshine that this year has had to offer. As soon as their school lessons are over for the day and their bellies are filled they hit the ground running, all three of them, the old lures of the screen forgotten. They ride bikes, play at the playground, and scavenge the campus with their friends for frogs. Yesterday they caught so many that my front yard looked as though a slimy green plague had come upon it. And at the end of the day, my children come home sweaty, stinky, smiling, freckles popping, and with cheeks rosy.

And it is exactly as this season of childhood should be.

Because one day my children will grow up. Perhaps, at some point in time, a prince will arrive for each of my daughters and the days of frog catching will be over.

But that day is not today. Thank goodness that day is not today.