So, this gift list is a day “late”. However, unlike other late lists, it’s not because we were traveling or internet-less. We were home all day yesterday and I even had time in the evening to type it up. But I didn’t want to. Because you see, I have this problem and it’s called perfectionism.
Back when I only had one baby (and he took two solid naps a day) and life was less crazy, I was able to write down my gifts throughout the day, as they happened. But now, especially lately, a whole week will go by and my gift journal will remain unopened. But not because the gifts aren’t there…they are in abundance. And I’ll still notice them and rejoice in them, and think to myself that I should jot them down. But that usually doesn’t end up happening and that’s okay. The important thing is that I noticed them. But then, Sunday night or Monday morning rolls around and I want to write up my post. But instead of just writing down the gifts that pop into my head, I freak out and rack my brain, trying to remember every single one, and write them down in chronological order. Because if I don’t remember every single one and get it down in order, then the list will supposedly be “incomplete”, etc., etc. As you can imagine, for a tired mommy brain, it just doesn’t happen. And so I get frustrated. Not exactly the thankfulness I was going for with counting my gifts.
And so I’m learning and trying to let go of that. Trying to realize and remember that I don’t need to record every single gift that comes down from the Father of lights (James 1:17). The important thing is to notice them and thank my Father for them. And if I get around to recording them, then good…if not, it doesn’t really matter. And if nothing is recorded for a week, that’s okay too. I’ll just remember what I can and share those with others, knowing that my gifts are more than I can count. And I am thankful.
1831. What a great team my husband and I make.
1832. Going to the Monterey Bay Aquarium with Aaron’s family.
1833. Cedar’s delight at getting to touch starfish.
1834. Nursing Genoa in the dark of a secluded corner of one of the exhibits.
1835. The versatility of the Ergo (from baby to toddler).
1836. Chasing Cedar around the kids’ aquarium area.
1837. Cedar’s delighted “Mama!” when he saw something particularly fascinating.
1838. Sitting outside in the sun by the ocean with Genoa sleeping in the Ergo.
1839. Clam chowder in a bread bowl.
1840. Home days to recover from previous days with no naps.
1841. Cedar’s utter enjoyment of “helping water” (i.e. playing in the dishwater).
1842. How easily soapy water cleans up.
1843. Cedar’s “working hard!”.
1844. Looking forward to our weekly at-home date night.
1845. A simple bouquet of two roses and a sunflower from my love.
1846. Genoa in her little jeans and too-short-sundress-turned-tunic over a onesie.
1847. The kids and I helping Aaron clean up his job site.
1848. A dish I randomly invented and threw together turning out just as yummy as I thought it would.
1849. My drying rack.
1850. A package from MoreThanAlive.
1851. New essential oils.
1852. Learning to seek the Father’s will above my own.
1853. A phone call that changes everything and renews anticipation.
1855. How my mom helps me put things in perspective.
1856. Learning to love unselfishly.
1857. Amazing nursing camis.
1858. Eating Ghirardelli chocolate chips off a lid.
1859. My babies modeling their New Zealand wool winter hats.
1860. How much Cedar loves doing his farm animal puzzle.
1861. My love playing with our babies.
1862. Warm Moroccan yumminess.
1863. Chatting with a new friend about food and cloth diapers and life.
1864. Dry rice to help a toddler-drowned phone.