(Written May 3, 2007)
I wake most mornings at 5:30 a.m., wishing the coffee were already made and hotter than the pot will make it. I wish the house smelled like fresh-brewed coffee and clean linens. Sadly, I think it’s closer to a wet diaper and sour milk. =0 Gross, I know – especially for a clean freak like me. It’s true, that with motherhood comes many sacrifices. I’ve surrendered. I can hardly bend over to take off my own boots at the end of the day – (I am nearly 8 months pregnant) – let alone Q-tip the corners of the kitchen floor. But, life is good. I wake Sully up by 6 if he hasn’t awakened on his own. For 30 minutes we lie on the couch together and snuggle. Juliette never snuggled with me like this – or maybe I never snuggled with her. We get better as we get older. I caress Sully’s little head and warm up his cold little legs and think about the day we’ll spend miles apart: me at work and Sully at daycare. He won’t let me leave the couch until 6:30 when daddy comes downstairs and pours himself a bowl of cereal. They share it. Once he starts picking off pieces of banana or strawberry out of dad’s raisin bran, that’s my cue to take a shower.
Last night, Juliette read me a little thing she wrote for school. It said, “I will miss this school after I leave next year. I have learned so much about Jesus here and it’s helped me in my everyday life.” Juliette has been at this school for a long time, and the influence of the nuns and their teachings are evident in her drawings of Christ. She draws him on the cross and dots his hands and sides red with blood. I never drew pictures of Jesus, despite my parsonage upbringing. I wonder what Juliette thinks of Jesus. Is He real to her – and more importantly – is He love? I was told for more than 30 years that Jesus loved me but didn’t *know* it for myself until Thanksgiving Day 1999. That’s a long story for another day!