Don’t worry, y’all. Eli’s just rockin’ a helmet to fix his severely flat head. He’s like Stewie from Family Guy. Thanking God that he’s wearing it at the beginning of fall and football season.
You can’t see it but there is a Bronco sticker on the left. Now we just need a #18 and we’ll be all set!
When Eli was born, I noticed that his head would flop to his left all the time and that he hardly ever would look to his right. Turns out there’s a medical name for that called torticollis. We’ve taken him to physical therapy to train him to look to his right and to really stretch those muscles so there’s no preference. But, when he slept, he still flopped his head to the left and that’s what caused the severe head flattening on one side.
He is doing much better looking to both sides and he is adjusting to the helmet. It hurts our hearts a little that he has to wear it, but I’ve been reassured that babies adjust to it pretty quickly. I had a mom tell me that her son really missed his helmet when he was done with treatments, so that made me feel better.
Elias, sorry that you’ve had some bumps in the road since you’ve been born. But I want you to know that we have an awesome Friend who takes care of us. We’ll tell you all about His provision one day when you are older!
You will never be completely at home again, because part of your heart always will be elsewhere. That is the price you pay for the richness of loving and knowing people in more than one place.
"Gray hair is a crown of splendor, it is attained by a righteous life. "
I’m turning into a silver lady way before I’m a golden girl. And I don’t know whether to hit the bottle or go natural. I’d like to think my youthful spirit will outshine my glossy grays. Feeling doubtful and vanity is winning.
We were in a consignment store. I had the baby strapped to me and the toddler running away in defiance. I yelled out, “Stop being a turd!”
What am I, 12?
As soon as the words escaped, I tried to quickly say turkey to make it sound like I meant to say turkey, not turd.
I used to think my crassness was funny. It was an endearing part of me according to my dad who, frankly, taught me how to be crass. But when I sling my crassness at my kid, it makes me cringe.
I don’t have anything enlightening to say about how my words may or may not affect my kids. But it was the first time I experienced that pause. That censor alarm. That urgency to protect my kids from my crude, mean mouth.
Don’t get me wrong. Our home is not filled with profanities (at least I try to wait until I’m out of the room!). They always say kids are little mockingbirds, and the words that my toddler chirps in our house go something like this:
You did it
Dear Jesus pray for
Aren’t those words just so sweet? I’m not naive to think this little list will remain this sweet. And I’ll try not to laugh when she repeats something bad that I have said. I mean, someone has to be the grownup! But it is just one more area of mothering where I need grace. Man, I need LOTS. OF. GRACE.