Oh What a Week It’s Been...
I’m still here.
Last week was jam-packed full of things to write about, but I just could not find the words. I had to process what was going on first, and honestly, I’m still not sure how I feel about things in my life.
It was a good week actually, and nothing tragic happened — allow me to relieve any fears or concerns you might have. All is well.
All is well.
I had a full week with my son, as Oliver’s father was on vacation… (oh Lordie, please relieve me from bitterness and anger and keep my lips closed and my heart open as I write today. Help me to remember You love ALL creatures, big and small, male and female, even ex-spouses.)
Don’t do it, Andrea. Don’t spout venom.
We just arrived home last night from a full weekend at the cottage. The weather was great.
I have 500+ photos to sort thru yet, a few recipes, a few excursions, a few lovelies to shall with y’all.
Back home, Oliver and I have fallen into a really nice routine. Each morning he comes into my room, gently awakens me with a brush on my arm and a sweet, silent smile. I help him climb into my bed, and we cuddle. If he comes early enough, he sometimes falls asleep for a few moments in my arms. Before getting out of bed we tickle and goof around a bit, laugh and talk, sometimes pray, and then we begin our day upright, armed with love and confidence.
I make my coffee first —that’s very important— and then I get him fresh pressed juice and breakfast, usually something with protein to give him stamina and clarity while he’s learning all those great things about our world at school.
I still pick out his clothes (yep, I am that way) and he gets dressed himself, brushes his teeth, gets his backpack and we head out the door, coffee, keys and cell phone in hand. (mine)
Lately he’s taken to riding his “bike” to school, clearly the only child who still thinks his big wheel is cool. And I don’t care.
Someday I’ll have to show you a pic of him from behind, monkey backpack strapped to his body, his little legs peddling himself waaaaay way ahead of me, much faster than I can walk (or run).
I absolutely adore walking to school with him each day, savoring the moments because I know he’ll soon be too cool to ride the big wheel, too big to cuddle in the morning, too independent for me to pick out his clothes (we’re getting close) and too old for me to walk along side him, sharing these kinds of moments.
I treasure them dearly and thank God each and every day for that boy.
Last week was jam-packed full of things to write about, but I just could not find the words. I had to process what was going on first, and honestly, I’m still not sure how I feel about things in my life.
It was a good week actually, and nothing tragic happened — allow me to relieve any fears or concerns you might have. All is well.
All is well.
I had a full week with my son, as Oliver’s father was on vacation… (oh Lordie, please relieve me from bitterness and anger and keep my lips closed and my heart open as I write today. Help me to remember You love ALL creatures, big and small, male and female, even ex-spouses.)
Don’t do it, Andrea. Don’t spout venom.
We just arrived home last night from a full weekend at the cottage. The weather was great.
I have 500+ photos to sort thru yet, a few recipes, a few excursions, a few lovelies to shall with y’all.
Back home, Oliver and I have fallen into a really nice routine. Each morning he comes into my room, gently awakens me with a brush on my arm and a sweet, silent smile. I help him climb into my bed, and we cuddle. If he comes early enough, he sometimes falls asleep for a few moments in my arms. Before getting out of bed we tickle and goof around a bit, laugh and talk, sometimes pray, and then we begin our day upright, armed with love and confidence.
I make my coffee first —that’s very important— and then I get him fresh pressed juice and breakfast, usually something with protein to give him stamina and clarity while he’s learning all those great things about our world at school.
I still pick out his clothes (yep, I am that way) and he gets dressed himself, brushes his teeth, gets his backpack and we head out the door, coffee, keys and cell phone in hand. (mine)
Lately he’s taken to riding his “bike” to school, clearly the only child who still thinks his big wheel is cool. And I don’t care.
Someday I’ll have to show you a pic of him from behind, monkey backpack strapped to his body, his little legs peddling himself waaaaay way ahead of me, much faster than I can walk (or run).
I absolutely adore walking to school with him each day, savoring the moments because I know he’ll soon be too cool to ride the big wheel, too big to cuddle in the morning, too independent for me to pick out his clothes (we’re getting close) and too old for me to walk along side him, sharing these kinds of moments.
I treasure them dearly and thank God each and every day for that boy.
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