Thoughts on Pre

Owen is asleep, resting peacefully.  Now a one-nap child he needs this time desperately. I need it desperately.  

Bread is baking in the oven.  Bread machines are great - but my quick transfer of warm dough to a hot oven makes the result so much more homey.  The smell is tempting, but the clock shows that a little more baking is required before I can break out the honey and whip it up with some butter.

I'm trying to enjoy the last few weeks, days, hours of status quo before the tidal wave of new normal hits.  I feel some compulsion to capture these fleeting moments and corresponding emotions before they get washed up in the new and faded out like some once-vivid shell left to dry on the beach.  

But it's hard.  It's always hard to appreciate what we have in the now.  There is the pull of the future always catching our (my) gaze.  I've been busy, bustling about, nesting as if my future depends on a clean closet and stocked freezer.  No time to sit and think!  I must be productive!!

But right now I feel like there is a lull - a temporary calm and peace.  It's almost like an erie stillness in the atmosphere.  Something is on the verge of happening.  Like the quiet before a storm when the birds all stop singing and before the wind picks up.  It's forcing me to stop.  Sit.  Think.  Rest.

So I'm taking the time to just breathe in the expected and the known - the little daily routines that soon won't exist anymore.  New routines will establish, yes, but the current ones will first be replaced by the unstable balancing act of the initial few weeks, followed by that mellowing period where life begins to settle out, finally solidifying into something that looks more normal.

But now I'm enjoying the expected and known about Owen.  His love of puzzles and books and rocking on his horse.  Blocks and cooking. Cleaning, rearranging, coloring.  His fierce love for his dada.  His joy in playing outside.  His fitfulness about eating - and his preference for anything sweet - especially anything he calls a 'cakie'.  

I'm enjoying the expected and known about our soon to come baby.  The big belly that never seems to fit though the crack I open in the door.  The stretching - her little hands pressing against my hip as her bottom pushes up into my ribs.  The way I carry her everywhere with me - the comfort in having her close.  The feeling of fullness that I am just so thankful for.  

I'm enjoying the expected and known me.  I have found a rhythm that I love in this time.  A place of pressing in and pushing toward growth while dwelling in peacefulness and contentedness.  A place where I am seeking maturity and searching out divine wisdom to deal with life.  A place of extreme thankfulness based on sight of faithfulness.  Where I realize the gaps to be filled but am finally willing to wait for the processes required to do the digging. 

And I'm willing to be still.

So now, a still me resides in a still atmosphere...holding on to the present for just a little longer but sensing that electrical current racing quietly in the background - the tingling feeling that signals coming change.  Resting and soaking in NOW to prepare for SOON.  

Because, obviously, soon is coming.