In this new year, I have been reminded in many ways that I cannot take my three healthy, wonderful children for granted. Some of these reminders have been joyful, like Bub seeing a display of heart-shaped balloons at the grocery store and declaring we HAD to get one, “For Jaybird!” (Update: Jay somehow popped his balloon before two minutes had passed.) Some of these reminders, however, have been painful, but all have shown me what a great gift is each day. So today, Jaybird’s second birthday, I am thankful to God for every one of his 731 days, and every one we may be blessed with in the future.
Two years ago, around three in the morning, I went from, “I’ll probably have a baby some time in the next 24 hours,” to, “I’m having a baby right freaking now!” It had been a very snowy few weeks, but I lucked out and went into labor in one of the few hours it wasn’t snowing. Otherwise, we would certainly have welcomed our baby on the highway. Twenty whirlwind minutes after arriving at the hospital, my Jaybird was born.
Since then, he’s lived up to his dramatic arrival – when he decides he wants something, whether it’s a toy, a new skill, or just to be born, he wants it now and goes for it. Jay lives in the moment like no one I’ve ever met. He is always 100% where his is, what he is doing, how he is feeling. As someone decidedly lacking that quality, I learn from him every day. I’ve never really been able to imagine Jay aging, because he perfectly embodies whatever age and stage he is in. When he was a baby, he was SO BABY. Now, he is SO TODDLER. He is a strange and wonderful combination of id and quiet wisdom.
When Jay is upset, you can be sure we hear about it (along with everyone in the county) and no attempt at distraction can calm him. This Sunday I was sick, and watched church at home; I could hear Jay in the background crying on and off throughout the service. Upon taking his seat at church, he decided he wanted different shoes, and refused to be consoled…for over an hour! He will not be diverted from feeling his feelings to the full. And when he’s done that, he throws himself into the enjoyment of whatever is next.
He tries new things with aplomb and, undeterred by failure, keeps trying until he succeeds. Jay fearlessly says words he’s nowhere close to saying correctly; he watches his older brother, sure he can do all the same things (usually he’s right, and we nervous adults are wrong); and he tries to solve problems himself before asking for help. Basically, he assumes himself capable, and doesn’t get discouraged by imperfection. At the same time, he is perfectly content to do things at his own pace, and won’t be pressured to do what he’s not ready for (or not do what he is ready for.) This is how I ended up with a baby who crawled before he could sit upright, and climbed around playgrounds before he could walk.
In a season of life where I’ve often had to sit with some uncomfortable feelings, Jay teaches me to let myself feel it rather than trying to distract it away. He teaches me not to compare myself to others, to accept what I’m not ready for and to assume myself capable of what I am ready for. He teaches me to live in the moment.
Which brings me back to the beginning, because living in the moment is the best way to combat a tendency to take things for granted. I try not to take my family for granted, but often that has turned me to fear and anxiety about the future. But anxiety grasps what it fears to lose, it doesn’t cherish what it is grateful to have. So I’m trying to be like Jay, to live in the moment with gratitude for all I have.
Happy birthday, Jaybird. By the grace of God, may I cherish every moment I am blessed to be with you, and continue to learn from your wise little soul.