My mom keeps asking me if I’m writing things down. This is so I can say, “yes” without lying.
First smile happened right around 5 weeks – I remember because the internet has just told me it was supposed to happen so I was excited that it did.
Everly rolled over a week ago… About 2 and a half months. For some reason, I can’t keep track of the weeks anymore. Over 8 is too hard for my sleepy brain.
Now she holds her head up with her arms and gets frustrated because she wants to move so badly. She loves to stand and fly and move. She’s more talkative these days too, answering with coos and ahhs.
Other notable moments are first headband that fits, biggest poop, and first paper cut (oops, that one was my fault).
So, yes, Mom. I am, in fact, writing things down.
Today I found out something so sad that I burst into tears in my car. Some of our dearest friends – visited in the hospital the night after Everly was born sort of good – just told us they’re moving from a mile down the street to the Midwest.
It’s all good things – better job, better vacation, better opportunities – and most importantly, a calling – the undeniable, can’t-shake-it, no-such-thing-as-a-coincidence sort of calling from God full of provision and promise.
But it’s so hard.
Today, over coffee, I couldn’t even squeak out the words to Megan. I’m selfishly mourning the loss of the plans I had laid out. Everly and Ruthie – born 2 days apart! – would be best friends, live within biking distance, share birthday parties, and be maid of honor in each other’s weddings (I’m a planner, okay?). But now, more likely they’re pen pals, if that’s even still a thing, or just the family friends that kids talk about in passing.
And that’s just the very tip of my friendship with Megan. This incredible, faithful woman who is willing to risk everything to move to a place God is calling has taught me so much about listening to God and motherhood and marriage. She is brave and strong and confident. She’s been my shoulder to cry on, my go-to person to text frustrations, and the person who got me through being pregnant and the first few months of Everly’s life (guys, breast-feeding. you just need someone to talk to or you’ll just die).
I don’t know what I’m going to do without her down the street. And I can’t stop the teeter totter of sadness that she’s leaving and awe at her faithfulness.
Tonight, while the little girl sleeps and Tuck reads, I’m sad. So sad to lose my dear friends. And we’re in the middle of the story with no happy ending in sight.
Yesterday we sat under clear skies and celebrated one of our friends marry the man perfectly suited for her. Both dads gave beautiful speeches remembering the day their kids were born and shared how thankful they were that their kids found each other.
The father-daughter dance was the same one that everyone uses – the country twang of “I Held Her First” by some artist who’s made a lot of money playing on peoples emotions (I don’t know his name because nobody likes country music).
I looked over at Tuck holding our little girl and can’t even imagine that someday she might be in her twenties in a white dress with another man she loves. When we got home, we talked about if Everly’s future husband was already alive and walking. Before we put her to bed, Tuck prayed for him – that he would be good and strong and love Jesus.
For now, we’ll just do our best to love our little girl and love each other. And we’ll cross “someday” when we get there.
Today you’re two months old. Today, we also packed you and all your junk up for the first time to dog sit for two weeks. I wrestled your pack and play/bed to the ground and back up again. You woke up for the first time at church. Your dad helped you stand up and move one leg at a time like you were walking. I wanted to get you on Ellen.
We’re “those” parents who get excited to see pictures of when you were smaller and marvel at how much you’ve changed (hello, that’s every first time parent). You’re a pretty good sleeper at night and a terrible napper. We’ve taken our first trips to the library, ice cream shops and a hipster coffee shop – you know, all the important, educational places.
Your best friends are your uncles – John, Trav, Jovan, and Brian – (none of whom are your actual uncles), your aunts (the real blood related ones and all the pseudo ones who love you), Ruthie, and Claire.
You’ve been to 2 weddings and will go to at least 2 more before you even turn 1 year old. And you’ve decided your favorite way to be walked around is facing out, looking at the world.
Right now, you are sleeping in my lap with your arms splayed every which way and I am trying to remember all the sweet things I can because I know our time with you is going to come fast and furious.
You are so loved, sweet girl. I hope you always know.
We’re house sitting for two weeks starting tomorrow and I really wanted to clean the house so we come home to an orderly, clean house. Instead, I’m sitting in our chair in our room with a pile of clean laundry and random stuff all over our bed watching Everly and Tucker sleep.
And enjoying every second.