Please Disregard...

The disheveled look on my face.
The sweat dripping from my forehead.
The lack of makeup.
The wrinkles in my clothes.
The idea that I may actually remember our conversation.
The drool on my left shoulder.
The leftover Cheerios in my car's seats.
The exhaustive way I enter and leave a room.

I can't help it, but this is how it goes almost every day.  I've realized that life is hard with two babies.  It just is.  I find myself so overwhelmed lately.  I imagine I'm not the only mother who feels this way.  However, I finally took some time tonight to talk with my 11-week-old. 

I flat out had a sit-down talk with my baby and told him that I was so sorry.  I knew I needed to apologize to him after the night he'd had and for the way I'd handled our life lately.   I told Samuel I was sorry for letting him cry a little too long, not immediately changing his dirty diapers, paying more attention for safety's sake to his big brother, not holding him enough throughout the day, missing out on some of his accomplishments, not capturing every single day on film, and not being the mom I feel as though I should be to him. 

And...  you want to know what his reply was? 

He smiled.  Right at me.  He cooed and grinned then melted my heart with his big, blue eyes and brown, curly hair.  In our short five minute "conversation", Samuel made me realize just how grateful I am for this time.  For feeling so overwhelmed I could bust.  For feeling completely inadequate as a parent.  For feeling so helpless and weak.  Because, let's face it, parents all feel that way.

The tears filled my eyes as I was reminded of how God chose me.  He placed Daniel and Samuel directly in my hands.  He filled my life with their little smiles.  He decided that I was to be their mother, and that in itself is the most humbling, gratifying fact in all of this.  The fact that God knew I'd be a mess.  He knew I'd make mistakes and have to leave one child crying while helping another.  He knew I'd have days where nothing was accomplished and that I'd be so angry and tired over cries that seemed to never cease.  Yet, HE. CHOSE. ME.  God gave them to me, and though I know these two children are not mine to keep, God gave them to me. 

Wow. 

Please disregard my repetitions, ramblings, and rantings.  Just know that I'm a bit out of it for a while.  At least until they are out of diapers and can walk on their own without throwing tantrums if you hold their hands and can get in/out of the car by themselves.  Yeah, it may be a while, but God loves it.  He sees beauty in the messes and knows that I'm still a work He's progressing.  He reminds me daily how blessed I truly am and that there will come a day when these frustrations are distant memories of how He loved me enough to give me two.