Birthday Blogging

If you're here looking for this week's Hodgepodge questions they're one post back. 

September 10th is the one day of the year I do my best not to skip blogging. My baby girl celebrates a birthday and she expects me to mention it here. There might be three decades worth of candles on her cake, but she's forever my baby girl. 

There's no cake though, because her baby girl can't handle dairy. Mothers excel at doing what must be done, even if it means no cake on your birthday. 

Years ago, during a particularly busy September, I told my daughter I might not get a post written on the day, and she told me reading my blog on her birthday is one of the highlights of her day.  

Let me never miss being a highlight in her day. 

I've been birthday blogging since 2009 which means I have to dig a little deeper with every passing year to say something that hasn't already been said. I need to get creative, but am not feeling especially so, mostly because I've been with the birthday girl's kiddos all weekend. Three full days with a two year old and his 7-month old sister is, in a word-fantabulous. 

Or to put it another way-exhausting. 

Let's just say it is fantabulously exhausting.

Hubs and I also have birthdays this month and the weekend confirmed what we already suspected... 

We're not as young as we thought. 

All weekend I was reminded of how much a break is needed every now and then when you're a mom to littles. Needed and appreciated. 

Mothering wee ones is non-stop doing-thinking-being. It's cooking, washing, wiping, serving, playing, planning, answering, making, soothing, reading, praying, watching, standing, bending, singing, looking, swaying, listening, noticing, and caring.

It feels like a million little things because it is a million little things, the importance of which can be lost in the noise of a culture that says bigger and more visible things matter more. As a mom to now grown littles I can say the minutes spent doing the mundane are an investment that pay off down the road in ways that make your heart grateful for every snotty nose wiped, every crumb swept, and every lullaby sung on the road to here.

I look at my daughter with her babies and I remember my cheeky one who at the age of two liked to say I was not the boss of her. The blonde haired beauty who wasn't big on sleep but had the bluest eyes and a smile that made you forget the nights were short and the days were often oh so long. 

my baby

Those years though? They flew. She's a mother now, two babies of her own in as many years, and coming out of the fog that clouds a new mom's brain. 

her baby 

When I look at her daughter I see my own. Almost. They're each their own person, but I pray her little miss has the patience, intelligence, and love for Jesus her momma has. 

Happy birthday Daughter2! Keep finding great joy and satisfaction in the glorious mundane of mothering. I'm forever grateful God blessed my life with yours xo