big hair and burn books...
I can't believe you're two months old, Madelyn. I also can't believe that I'm just two days late writing to you. Should you become a mother one day, you'll learn that you spend the majority of your time not doing things you'd like to. Does that make sense? Like there's this great big running list of things you'd love to check off and most of them won't get checked because there are so many hours in a day and your needs and desires will land on the back burner. It's part of motherhood. God has absolutely used this season of life, more than any other, to reveal to me my level of selfishness and impatience and to refine me in those areas. And so I've had to learn to differentiate between things that need to happen versus things that I'd like to happen. I'd like to blog more and I don't like to do laundry, but I need to do laundry and I don't need to blog. If I don't do laundry, someone goes naked. If I don't blog, no one is affected. So, all of that to say that I'm making time to blog tonight. It's late and that's usually when those "like to" things get done these days.
These past two months have been a blur. You are such a precious child and have really brought me great joy. I'll admit that having two small children is a bit to juggle, and I think the hardest thing is finding a way to give you both the attention you want and need. Unfortunately, your sister has a way of commanding and requiring a great amount of attention and you've been a real trooper to be patient with me. I don't get to hold you as much as I would like to, so I make up for it at night and during her nap time. I started snuggling Annabeth in bed in the mornings when she was about 18 months old. This trend has started sooner with you. Of course, you'll snuggle down just about any time I hold you and it took her about 18 months (and lots of forced trying) before she wanted to snuggle me. I love getting to hold your warm, soft, squishy body against my chest. That's one thing I don't tire of and will absolutely miss. Babies only fit on your chest for a short amount of time, so a momma has to make the most of it while she can! Plus, you're growing like a weed so I feel as if those days will come to an end far before I'm ready. I shared this "mom-conflict" with the pediatrician and joked that I shouldn't feel guilty about trying to divide my attention because neither one of you will remember. She reminded me that, although you won't remember, we're creating a last bond and that starts on day one. But I do want you to know that I'm always up for snuggling you no matter your size!
And speaking of, you're already up to 11 pounds. Really, almost 12! You get that from your momma! I weighed 14 pounds when I was 2 months old, so I still hold the record! You love to eat, but this is America, who doesn't?! You hardly ever cry, and the only time you give a pitiful, pouty-liped cry is when you're hungry. It's so sad and precious all at once. You sleep like a champ, and you'll sleep anywhere. I've made pallets for you all over the house, and even outside, and you'll sleep just about any place I lay you. You might fuss a minute or two but it doesn't take long for you to give in, and if I hold you you're asleep almost immediately. You've even put yourself on a routine and are becoming a little predictable... a girl after my own heart! You're doing well at night, and recently, you're only waking once to eat. All in all, you've really spoiled me since you've arrived and I've had to keep myself in check so I don't start to get an ego.
My blood pressure has yet to return to normal since your birth. The good thing is that I don't feel bad. The bad thing is that I can't seem to do much to lower it. Hopefully time will take care of that for me. I've had to visit the doctor every other week for a blood pressure check. Last week I sat across from a young college (I'm assuming) girl who confessed she was tired because she had been up all night. She stated that she slept until noon, thankfully waking in time for her 1:30 appointment. "Oh, the days," I thought to myself. I didn't stay up all night when I was in college but I easily slept until noon. I could use a few "noon" days right about now. Anyway, I told her I was tired, too, but for a different reason. A good reason, none the less. She said, "Yeah, my sister has kids and it changes every thing!" We discussed many of things that change when a child is born and she said, "I am already worried about my body bouncing back after I have kids, and so I think I'm going to just adopt instead." That's probably not the best comment to make to a postpartum mother, but she also said she would have never guessed I was in my 30's so I'll give her a pass. Plus, I get it. I would love to have my college body back! I smiled and assured her that whether or not she had kids, time and age would change her body. Regardless of birthing a child, she would get grey hair, wrinkles, and "loosen up" a bit. But with lots of money and a great amount of work, she might be able to somewhat maintain her current figure. However, if you ask me, knowing what age will do to a body, one might as well go ahead and have a baby. They're worth the changes!
This little conversation got me thinking about you. My body changed in different ways during my second pregnancy than it did my first. And, had you been born on your actual due date, there is no telling what would have happened. (I'm glad I didn't have to find out.) And the sad thing is that even as a baby, your body is already being compared to your peers. Of course, it's in the measurement of percentiles, for medical purposes, but it's still comparison none the less. Are you heavier than the average or smaller? Are you longer or shorter? And for you, sweet girl, this is a battle you, and every other female, will fight for the rest of your days. On top of that, you have an older sister and people love to compare siblings. I'm trying my best not to compare you two because, you may have the same parents, but you're not the same person. God created you both uniquely different. One thing I find interesting is that your sister has my coloring and your dad's personality. So far, you seem to have your dad's coloring and my personality. We'll see how that changes over time, but you two girls are very different and both in a good way!
I have always struggled greatly with my body image. I honestly don't remember a time in my life where I wasn't self-conscious about the way I looked. I can think back to grade school and I remember disliking parts of my body, namely my legs. Funny side story: when I was a little girl I asked Grammy why my thighs "spread out" the way they did every time I sat down. It's genetic, and if you have legs like mine, well just know that you've got a strong base. But the older I got, the more things I found to be self-conscious about. The one thing I always felt confident about was my hair. God did not give me the face shape to sport long hair, and so I found great confidence in my short hair. I was one of a few girls who had short hair in school, but I took a lot of pride in my hair. The amount of time I spent on it each morning was proof of that truth. Honestly, my hair was kind of like my trademark. I always wanted curly hair, so I asked my Nana to give me a perm. By the time you're old enough to read this, perms will be absolutely extinct so I better explain what it is. Basically, you wrap your hair around these tiny rollers and pour a horrible smelling solution over it that will cause your hair to curl (and hopefully not ruin it if you're lucky). Well, my perm turned out cute, or so I thought. I was super proud of my curly hair and sported it with great pride. Tere was this other thing called a "burn book" floating around many of the girls in my grade. In the "old days" we didn't have cell phones or social media so we actually wrote things down on paper. This burn book somehow made it into the hands of my best friend and she found a page dedicated to me with a hand drawn picture of me. The character had enormous, ridiculous hair and the page included tacky comments about me and my hair. I wasn't supposed to see or know about that book, but that's usually what happens in those situations. (A good lesson here is to never say or write anything about someone that you wouldn't want them to hear or know.) Anyway, the one thing I actually liked about myself was being picked apart and criticized. It was one of the things that made me different, made me stand out, and I was humiliated and hurt. Unfortunately, I was allowing my outward appearance hold way too much weight in what I thought of myself.
It's so easy to worry about appearances, especially our own, but God's word tell us that He is concerned about our heart. He doesn't look at or judge us by the way we look. And, honestly, I suppose that wouldn't be fair because He picked out our traits. God also designed our bodies to be temporal and changing. You only look the way you look for so long. (At some stages in life, you'll be extremely thankful for that.) But our heart, well, that's the one thing we can control. We can't help it if we have short or long legs, but we can certainly decide if we're going to be kind or not. We don't get to pick the color of our eyes or whether or not we have freckles, but we do get to decide if we're going to be gracious or greedy. You see where I'm going with this? God cares about our hearts because the way we act towards, speak to, and treat others matters much more than the way we look. No one is affected by the way we look. We don't build people up or tear them down simply with our appearance. The position of our heart is how we honor God and reflect His character. No one has ever said, "I see how much you love God by the way you wear your hair." But they see it in the way we forgive, serve, and love. They see it in our actions, not in our wardrobe. They see it in our words, not in our makeup bag.
You are fearfully and wonderfully made, as is every person created by God. And although you're beautiful, my prayer and hope is that you'll worry more about the condition of your heart over the condition of your hair (or skin, or teeth, or any part of your body). I hope and pray that people will say, "That Madelyn Davis has the most beautiful heart!" That you'll be a sweet and gracious girl. That you'll show God's love in all that you do. That you'll serve those around you and speak truth in kindness. Because "the beauty that comes from within, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, is so precious to God." (1 Peter 3:4)
These past two months have been a blur. You are such a precious child and have really brought me great joy. I'll admit that having two small children is a bit to juggle, and I think the hardest thing is finding a way to give you both the attention you want and need. Unfortunately, your sister has a way of commanding and requiring a great amount of attention and you've been a real trooper to be patient with me. I don't get to hold you as much as I would like to, so I make up for it at night and during her nap time. I started snuggling Annabeth in bed in the mornings when she was about 18 months old. This trend has started sooner with you. Of course, you'll snuggle down just about any time I hold you and it took her about 18 months (and lots of forced trying) before she wanted to snuggle me. I love getting to hold your warm, soft, squishy body against my chest. That's one thing I don't tire of and will absolutely miss. Babies only fit on your chest for a short amount of time, so a momma has to make the most of it while she can! Plus, you're growing like a weed so I feel as if those days will come to an end far before I'm ready. I shared this "mom-conflict" with the pediatrician and joked that I shouldn't feel guilty about trying to divide my attention because neither one of you will remember. She reminded me that, although you won't remember, we're creating a last bond and that starts on day one. But I do want you to know that I'm always up for snuggling you no matter your size!
And speaking of, you're already up to 11 pounds. Really, almost 12! You get that from your momma! I weighed 14 pounds when I was 2 months old, so I still hold the record! You love to eat, but this is America, who doesn't?! You hardly ever cry, and the only time you give a pitiful, pouty-liped cry is when you're hungry. It's so sad and precious all at once. You sleep like a champ, and you'll sleep anywhere. I've made pallets for you all over the house, and even outside, and you'll sleep just about any place I lay you. You might fuss a minute or two but it doesn't take long for you to give in, and if I hold you you're asleep almost immediately. You've even put yourself on a routine and are becoming a little predictable... a girl after my own heart! You're doing well at night, and recently, you're only waking once to eat. All in all, you've really spoiled me since you've arrived and I've had to keep myself in check so I don't start to get an ego.
My blood pressure has yet to return to normal since your birth. The good thing is that I don't feel bad. The bad thing is that I can't seem to do much to lower it. Hopefully time will take care of that for me. I've had to visit the doctor every other week for a blood pressure check. Last week I sat across from a young college (I'm assuming) girl who confessed she was tired because she had been up all night. She stated that she slept until noon, thankfully waking in time for her 1:30 appointment. "Oh, the days," I thought to myself. I didn't stay up all night when I was in college but I easily slept until noon. I could use a few "noon" days right about now. Anyway, I told her I was tired, too, but for a different reason. A good reason, none the less. She said, "Yeah, my sister has kids and it changes every thing!" We discussed many of things that change when a child is born and she said, "I am already worried about my body bouncing back after I have kids, and so I think I'm going to just adopt instead." That's probably not the best comment to make to a postpartum mother, but she also said she would have never guessed I was in my 30's so I'll give her a pass. Plus, I get it. I would love to have my college body back! I smiled and assured her that whether or not she had kids, time and age would change her body. Regardless of birthing a child, she would get grey hair, wrinkles, and "loosen up" a bit. But with lots of money and a great amount of work, she might be able to somewhat maintain her current figure. However, if you ask me, knowing what age will do to a body, one might as well go ahead and have a baby. They're worth the changes!
This little conversation got me thinking about you. My body changed in different ways during my second pregnancy than it did my first. And, had you been born on your actual due date, there is no telling what would have happened. (I'm glad I didn't have to find out.) And the sad thing is that even as a baby, your body is already being compared to your peers. Of course, it's in the measurement of percentiles, for medical purposes, but it's still comparison none the less. Are you heavier than the average or smaller? Are you longer or shorter? And for you, sweet girl, this is a battle you, and every other female, will fight for the rest of your days. On top of that, you have an older sister and people love to compare siblings. I'm trying my best not to compare you two because, you may have the same parents, but you're not the same person. God created you both uniquely different. One thing I find interesting is that your sister has my coloring and your dad's personality. So far, you seem to have your dad's coloring and my personality. We'll see how that changes over time, but you two girls are very different and both in a good way!
I have always struggled greatly with my body image. I honestly don't remember a time in my life where I wasn't self-conscious about the way I looked. I can think back to grade school and I remember disliking parts of my body, namely my legs. Funny side story: when I was a little girl I asked Grammy why my thighs "spread out" the way they did every time I sat down. It's genetic, and if you have legs like mine, well just know that you've got a strong base. But the older I got, the more things I found to be self-conscious about. The one thing I always felt confident about was my hair. God did not give me the face shape to sport long hair, and so I found great confidence in my short hair. I was one of a few girls who had short hair in school, but I took a lot of pride in my hair. The amount of time I spent on it each morning was proof of that truth. Honestly, my hair was kind of like my trademark. I always wanted curly hair, so I asked my Nana to give me a perm. By the time you're old enough to read this, perms will be absolutely extinct so I better explain what it is. Basically, you wrap your hair around these tiny rollers and pour a horrible smelling solution over it that will cause your hair to curl (and hopefully not ruin it if you're lucky). Well, my perm turned out cute, or so I thought. I was super proud of my curly hair and sported it with great pride. Tere was this other thing called a "burn book" floating around many of the girls in my grade. In the "old days" we didn't have cell phones or social media so we actually wrote things down on paper. This burn book somehow made it into the hands of my best friend and she found a page dedicated to me with a hand drawn picture of me. The character had enormous, ridiculous hair and the page included tacky comments about me and my hair. I wasn't supposed to see or know about that book, but that's usually what happens in those situations. (A good lesson here is to never say or write anything about someone that you wouldn't want them to hear or know.) Anyway, the one thing I actually liked about myself was being picked apart and criticized. It was one of the things that made me different, made me stand out, and I was humiliated and hurt. Unfortunately, I was allowing my outward appearance hold way too much weight in what I thought of myself.
It's so easy to worry about appearances, especially our own, but God's word tell us that He is concerned about our heart. He doesn't look at or judge us by the way we look. And, honestly, I suppose that wouldn't be fair because He picked out our traits. God also designed our bodies to be temporal and changing. You only look the way you look for so long. (At some stages in life, you'll be extremely thankful for that.) But our heart, well, that's the one thing we can control. We can't help it if we have short or long legs, but we can certainly decide if we're going to be kind or not. We don't get to pick the color of our eyes or whether or not we have freckles, but we do get to decide if we're going to be gracious or greedy. You see where I'm going with this? God cares about our hearts because the way we act towards, speak to, and treat others matters much more than the way we look. No one is affected by the way we look. We don't build people up or tear them down simply with our appearance. The position of our heart is how we honor God and reflect His character. No one has ever said, "I see how much you love God by the way you wear your hair." But they see it in the way we forgive, serve, and love. They see it in our actions, not in our wardrobe. They see it in our words, not in our makeup bag.
You are fearfully and wonderfully made, as is every person created by God. And although you're beautiful, my prayer and hope is that you'll worry more about the condition of your heart over the condition of your hair (or skin, or teeth, or any part of your body). I hope and pray that people will say, "That Madelyn Davis has the most beautiful heart!" That you'll be a sweet and gracious girl. That you'll show God's love in all that you do. That you'll serve those around you and speak truth in kindness. Because "the beauty that comes from within, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, is so precious to God." (1 Peter 3:4)
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