Cycles and Seasons

Today’s post shalt hitherto be peppered generously with photos of the seasons, reflecting the title of this post, and the bent of my brain.  Enjoy.

Ah, the midwife’s office.  Frought with toddlers (mine) and babies (mine) and bellies (not mine this time).  Yesterday I gazed around at the riffraff (me) and had a wonderful, sneaking feeling come over me:




as in

“I’m on the Tower of Terror and I think I’m going to lose my lunch!”


“You just won five mill-y-on dollars!”


aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, soaking in a bathtub.


At the midwife’s office?

Yes, there at the midwife’s office, I had an Inner Bathtub Moment.  IBM.

The woman sitting across from me was VERY pregnant.  She was wearing a loose, baggy T-shirt (or it would have been loose if her coming offspring hadn’t been stretching it to smitherines) and hot pink plaid pajama bottoms.  The look on her face reflected her clothing choice:


Ugh as in ugh.

I am familiar with that feeling.  In fact, my IBM was stimulated by the memory of needing a forklift to get myself into the driver’s seat of the family vehicle.  Doing the limbo just to retrieve a dropped spoon.  Catching a sob in my throat when I came across my favorite skinny jeans, buried deep in a drawer.


Then I looked at my side of the waiting room.  It was covered in winter coats, hats, mittens, books, drool, toys, water bottles, boogers, strollers, cell phones, goldfish crackers, and a host of things that exploded from my bags when we arrived two minutes earlier. 


I was so happy to be my normal weight again, flanked by my Mother and my awesome boys, getting only a routine checkup.  I realized how good I felt, despite too little sleep and too much coffee (and I dare say, too much Elmo).

Right now I couldn’t be happier to have my two little precocious squirts at home.  And someday I’ll say the same about being round and due-any-day again, slogging around in my pj’s, waiting for the big day.  Calling for a forklift.


I love seasons.  God does too, apparently.  Just look at New England, bare trees holding the promise of new life within them, just like a mama’s hidden womb.  And cycles!  Look at the paths of the planets.  Look at life cycles.  Look at how we learn, revisiting and reviewing. 

Look at our hearts – opening and closing to new things.

When it’s time for another member of our family to come along, I know God will open my heart fresh and new to that idea.  For now, here I am, enjoying this season of life and relishing the baby-hood of my sons. 

I wouldn’t mind a literal Bathtub Moment now and then…

But, as the woman at the market pointed out this week, “when your sons are out of the nest and you’re alone, you’ll miss them.”  I sure will.  And I’ll take a bubble bath then.


2 thoughts on “Cycles and Seasons

  1. I cried as I read your post this morning. I blame pregnancy hormones. Or maybe I still can’t believe that my sweet baby girl turns one today. But it’s so true, these seasons are ever changing and I need to be reminded to cherish and be thankful for the one I’m in right now. Thanks!

    • Wow Rachael! Congratulations! And Happy Birthday to your little girl. I hope you really enjoy the day together. (And EVERYTHING can be blamed on pregnancy hormones. In fact, I think the memory of my pregnancy hormones is telling me to get a snack. Excuse me while I mozy into the kitchen.)

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