Nothing as Constant as Change

     We are stuck inside today due to a winter storm. Saturday morning, Cole and I were supposed to head to breakfast with Santa at the St Joseph Country Club. Unfortunately, Santa had car trouble, so it was cancelled. So, we stayed home, had pancakes and sausage for brunch, and sat in front of the fire and opened an early Christmas present. It was Battleship! We all had fun playing that and then the boys went outside and played in the ice/snow. Our driveway is like a skating rink.

That afternoon, we headed over to Nana and Papa Pattersons to watch the Northwest Missouri State University Bearcats play in the national championship football game. They won, by the way. Dad went to school there for one year after high school before he transferred to UMKC when Mom started college.

     Jackson went out and shoveled Nana and Papa Patterson’s driveway. What a sweet boy he is growing up to be. As I watched him outside in the cold, cold, snow still coming down hard, I am amazed at how tall and adult he looks. Long and lean and not an ounce of baby fat on him!

     We did get to the mall this weekend, and Jackson sat for the obligatory Santa picture (I had to bribe him with a frozen lemonade). Cole also got a haircut while we were at the mall. His biggest concern was whether Nana Patterson would like it-she prefers his hair long-like really long!

After the mall, Jax found some friends in the neighborhood, and they went around shoveling driveways.

Cole and I stayed home in the warm, and watched Home Alone!

I fear these moments are going to become scarce sooner rather than later.

     It’s getting harder to pick Cole up. He is heavy and long and I find myself wondering how much longer I have of being able to lift this boy of mine. For almost seven years, I've picked him up and while I have known for a while it would be ending soon, here we are: I cannot pick him up as easily. After almost seven years of carrying him until my arms hurt, bouncing him and squeezing him, holding him cheek to cheek and picking him up just to kiss his sweet face, carrying him in a sling and on my back or on my shoulders, carrying him up the stairs and from his bed to mine, this phase has nearly passed.

He and his brother sat for the annual photo with Santa this past weekend and when the photo was printed and given to us, I was struck by the length of his legs. Did they simply look so long because he had black pants on? I don’t know. Seven years ago, his legs were curled as he was tucked in my womb making it uncomfortable for me to sit because his little butt and feet were so high up into my ribcage. How are they so long now?

Where are his squishy baby feet? Those little feet I would hold in my hand and squeeze and kiss and blow raspberries on to make him laugh. I have mentioned before his squishy forehead. It is long gone, and oh, how I miss it. There is nothing squishy about this boy. Long arms, long legs, flat tummy, mischievous smile. But he will still climb into my bed in the middle of the night to cuddle his Mama, and I will take it every chance I get!

There is nothing as constant as change. I feel like I see him changing everyday right before my eyes. I will watch as he grows and changes and while things might change, this fact remains: my love for this child with the no longer chubby cheeks and his older brother is more than I could have possibly envisioned or fathomed. And that God thought I might be the right person to form him (them), to raise him (them), to love him (them) up astounds me! I am so Thankful to have the opportunity to love these two young men I was blessed with.

Years ago, pregnant with first his older brother and then him, I remember being so thankful for each of them, each a child I didn't know yet but had always dreamed of. Now, years later, I may not be able to carry him as easily I once did, so I will kiss his cheek, and hug him every chance I get. Because change is inevitable.