My grace

Nine months following the birth of my twin boys, I was pregnant again - this time with a little girl.  I was still reeling in diapers and bottles and laundry and adjustments.  Many adjustments. 

It was a crazy time.

One day a friend dropped in with a fresh baked pecan pie.  My shades were still drawn and I was still in my red floral nightgown - passed down to me by my great uncle when his wife passed away. . . which, I also have her coat too and once, my brother chided me and asked if a got my coat from a dead person and I had to answer yes, I did, to which he sarcastically laughed and then asked "no seriously" straight faced, to which I restated "no, I really did get it from a dead person", and he made some off comment like, "yah.  It looks like it." and suggested I throw it away.  I still have it - 'cuz it's warm and works.  The red polyester large floraled mu'u mu'u style nightgown was one he'd probably laugh at too, but I have to say that my Asian neighbors liked it and since I was surrounded by Asians, I was right where I belonged with it.)

I was still in my nightgown, the house was less than presentable and I honestly don't remember the condition of my children.  And, it was 11:00 in the morning, quickly approaching afternoon.  My friend just came right on in, we shared pie and visited, and then, after waving goodbye, I crashed on the sofa - mortified.  With infant twins, I was definitely not the competent mother I had been when it was life with just me and Boy.  I felt reminded of this point every day.

Nearing the end of my pregnancy, I was having to go in for non-stress tests to make sure she was still doing ok.  One ultra-sound technician mentioned she thought this little girl would be so lucky.  Lucky? I asked out loud.  I'd never thought of this little baby as being lucky.   To be sure, I was actually sad for her that she was coming to our home at this craziest of crazy times.  "Sure," the tech said.  "I always wanted an older brother so I could meet their guy friends - and she's going to have two."

I wouldn't have planned my family any other way.  Really.  Lil' Miss reminded me that I was a competent mother, that I was a good mother.  She was easy, and absolutely just what my heart needed after twins.  My heart still needs her.  Will always need her.  She allowed me grace.  She continues to allow me much needed grace.

But somewhere, I worry she's already gotten lost in our home.  I sense it some days more than others.  She is such a little bundle of self.  Her desire to find a place in our home sometimes leads to days of me reprimanding her more than praising her.  Lil' Miss' soul is so big in her little 4-year old body. 

Shortly after moving here, I stood at my sink grumbling under my breath and huffing - close enough to cursing.  I had cookie sheets I had to scrape and scrub free of oven cleaner - left by someone who had offered to help me with the move and then later complained to me about how terrible the oven had been to clean.  I was not there for the "help",  but my Lil' Miss had been.  Lil' Miss now stood on a chair beside me as I tried to get the awful stuff off my pans.  "Mom," she tenderly said.  "Don't be mad at Lea.  She forgot the pans."  I hadn't said Lea's name but Lil' Miss knew; I imagine Lea having few kind words to say about me or the state of my home as she huffed over my oven, and Lil' Miss would have observed and heard it.  But she knew even Lea needed a little grace.  She reminded me that while I huffed on that I hadn't been given grace, I also wasn't giving enough of it. 

This morning she came to me and in a quiet voice said she had thrown-up last night.  Oh, my Lil' Miss.  I went to her room to assess the situation.  As I looked over her bed, I could hear her hushed sobs of despair.  As gently as I could, I reassured her it would be ok, told her we'd get it cleaned up, gave her a hug and ran a bath for her.   That was this morning.

'Course, by lunch time, she'd already been sent to her room, reprimanded and sad.

Oh, my Lil' Miss.  How. I. love you.