My littlest is a little over a year old. (I honestly hate trying to count the months exactly, I iust know he’s not 18 months yet, but he wears size 24 mo/2T clothes, so I don’t know. He’s age large.) He’s also proven to have a little bit of a temper and tantrums hidden up his sleeve. He’s a screamer. He is also the baby, so all of the above seems to happen much more frequently.
Today he follows me closely. I don’t always notice his feet scurrying behind mine until I turn around and crash right into him. He grabs my legs and pulls up so I can snatch him up in my arms. He is my big baby boy, who isn’t so much a baby. I’m still trying to figure him out; what his personality will be like, how to tame those tantrums, what his little noises mean. And sometime I stare at the picture we have of him on our wall where he was so little and squishy and deliciously happy and think, How? How is this my baby now?
I am always asked if we’re done having kids in small talk. I wish I could put a projector in my brain and show you everything that happens when I try to formulate an answer. I’ve never felt more sure of a calling than the one to have children, so deciding to just stop because three is a normal, healthy number? It’s difficult. I get squirmy. As in, how can I squirm my way out of answering this without saying we’re absolutely going to have more?
I don’t care. That feels like the right answer.
I care about having children and babies and having all that love. But I don’t care to give answers about how many or when to stop. I care about making sure we’re responsible. But I also don’t care about the how’s. As in, how will we ever have space? How will we have the money? How will we adjust? And why would we? I don’t know, and I’m okay with not knowing. I don’t care to know answers because God already knows. I willingly shove it in His palms and say, Yes Jesus. You know. You control. Whatever brings you glory.
I like this season now. I like that my little shadow, aka my youngest son, follows me and wants me to guide him by holding his hand as we walk through the house. I like not knowing what the whole of our lives holds because I like this, right now. The caring of these boys. It is simple in its chaos.
He sits with me now as I write. He just wants to be close and snuggle a little before he goes to make the next mess.
In short, maybe I’ll just open this post on my phone next time people ask, Are you done having kids? and hand it to them while I chase after big/little Finn as he takes on the next adventure. When I know for sure, I’m sure I’ll answer more confidently and give you all the sound advice I have on what it’s like to have children.
But for now, walking around my house, feeling my shadow in my wake, staring at photos of my baby who just isn’t anymore…This season feels like glimpses of heaven all over the place.