Globes. I wanted a globe. Even now, at the age of 25, I know a frighteningly small amount about the world. A few years ago, on a dare, I memorized the names and whereabouts of the countries and capitals of Europe in about 45 minutes. But, of course, it didn't really stick. In response to my own inadequacies, I am determined to teach my children how God has pieced together the nations across the expanse of the waters. For Mother's Day, Aidan gave me a beautiful metal-toned globe so that I can give my children the world.
Waffles. In was a groggy morning, after enduring a double-overtime hockey game and a cranky baby. But Aidan was determined to have a breakfast and coffee ready for me before I came down the stairs. I don't normally eat much breakfast, despite Aidan's constant urgings, but twice a year I tell him to go wild. He loves making me breakfast, probably because it is the one meal he has time to offer me. So I allow him to indulge me on days like these with crepes and waffles, and though I can rarely fit much in, I savour every bite.
Quilts. On Saturday night Caelah's Aunty Karin told her she had a surprise for her. It was a beautiful quilt, all in oranges and deep pinks. It has taken Karin months and months of work to complete it. And I know it was a gift to me as much as it was to Caelah. A forever gift that will, perhaps, swaddle Caelah's own baby someday. And so I received an extra Mother's Day gift that was made even more precious when, in Sunday's sermon, our pastor expanded our view of motherhood. He urged us to mother all the children in our lives, whether they came from our womb or not. To be attentive to them, and guide them in the way they should go. This quilt is one representation of the love that my children are encircled with. My motherly burden is made light when I am supported and sustained by the co-mothering and co-fathering of so many beloved friends.
Globes. I wanted a globe. Even now, at the age of 25, I know a frighteningly small amount about the world. A few years ago, on a dare, I memorized the names and whereabouts of the countries and capitals of Europe in about 45 minutes. But, of course, it didn't really stick. In response to my own inadequacies, I am determined to teach my children how God has pieced together the nations across the expanse of the waters. For Mother's Day, Aidan gave me a beautiful metal-toned globe so that I can give my children the world.
Waffles. In was a groggy morning, after enduring a double-overtime hockey game and a cranky baby. But Aidan was determined to have a breakfast and coffee ready for me before I came down the stairs. I don't normally eat much breakfast, despite Aidan's constant urgings, but twice a year I tell him to go wild. He loves making me breakfast, probably because it is the one meal he has time to offer me. So I allow him to indulge me on days like these with crepes and waffles, and though I can rarely fit much in, I savour every bite.
Quilts. On Saturday night Caelah's Aunty Karin told her she had a surprise for her. It was a beautiful quilt, all in oranges and deep pinks. It has taken Karin months and months of work to complete it. And I know it was a gift to me as much as it was to Caelah. A forever gift that will, perhaps, swaddle Caelah's own baby someday. And so I received an extra Mother's Day gift that was made even more precious when, in Sunday's sermon, our pastor expanded our view of motherhood. He urged us to mother all the children in our lives, whether they came from our womb or not. To be attentive to them, and guide them in the way they should go. This quilt is one representation of the love that my children are encircled with. My motherly burden is made light when I am supported and sustained by the co-mothering and co-fathering of so many beloved friends.
