A Time to Laugh

For years as I’d sew little things for families enduring a loss or celebrating a new life, I’d fantasize about having my own child playing next to me while I sewed. Well, reality doesn’t quite match fantasy.

I never dreamed that I’d have the intestinal flu while desperately finishing Chistmas gifts I over-committed myself for. Can’t let those American Girl dollies not have a sleeping bag or fuzzy slippers for their dolly sleep-overs!

I never dreamed that there’d be such variety in my day — from frantic I-don’t-have-time-to-rip-out-mistakes sewing to quiet-as-a-church nursing to sleep.

I never dreamed that playing with Mommy’s exercise ball and measuring tape and Daddy’s arcane copy of Almost Twelve would be more fun than with Eeyore or Legos (Legos that he’s not supposed to have until Christmas, but Mommy got desperate for some new entertainment).

I never dreamed that there’d be so many Christmas boogers hung by the nostrils with care. And hung on Mommy’s shirt and the bedsheets. They do hang on!

I never dreamed how many MP3s we’d have on the computer for his pleasure. And they are orchestral MP3s, not kids’ MP3s. The bigger the orchestra, the better!

I never dreamed that his favorite game would be peek-a-boo while eating.

I never dreamed that among the thread and snips of fabric on the floor that there’d be sippy cups, singleton socks, zippers (he loves to play with uninstalled zippers), and chewy mouse pads.

I never dreamed I’d be this crunchy a mom.

I never dreamed that I’d be who I am today. Exactly a year ago, I was in the hospital after my third day of labor waiting to hear the holler from my child that I had anticipated for so long. Now I sit with a nearly-napping near-toddler nursing like a champ.

It’s quite clear that this reality is better than I ever fantasized. God is so good.