Monday, March 24, 2014

Timothy Sullivan Ninness, our newest little saint

A few weekends ago, March 8, we baptized our littlest boy. It was so joyous for so many reasons. We had over 30 members of our family drive and fly to celebrate our Timothy. We opened our new home for a family gathering for the first time and it  felt wonderful to fill it with the people we love. Ross and I finally conceded that a Baptism at the Cathedral in Savannah (where we were married and MK and Tom were Baptized) just wasn't feasible. After much thought, we decided that the place in Atlanta that most feels like home is the Gift of Grace House. We brought our boy into our faith in the place Ross and I had our first date, in the place we worshipped until Mary Kate required a nursery, in the place we still feel known and loved. The Missionaries of Charity will always be a part of our story and we are so thankful they are now a part of Timothy's, too.

Timothy's godparents are Ross's aunt Chris and Father Tim. Both of these people are examples of Godliness, faithfulness, and love. I smile writing both of their names. Father Tim married us and baptized Mary Kate. He has known me since I was in college and has been an integral part of my life since then. He is serving at the North American College in Rome so he couldn't be here but assured us of his prayers! Aunt Chris is one of the most thoughtful people I know. Her handmade stained glass cross hangs in my kitchen, reminding me of her love and the love of Jesus during every meal prep or bottle washing session. When she comes into town, she has her sister (ross's mom) take her around to our favorite restaurants and buys us gift cards. She gave Mary Kate her first miraculous medal. Her heart is pure and beautiful.

Every time I look into Timothy's smiling face, I am overpowered with gratitude that God new better than we did. He knew that our family needed Tim. Even in the toughest moments of having 3 tiny children, I thank God with every fiber of my being for giving us Tim. This newest little Christian boy will forever be a reminder to me to trust God's plan above my own, to give Jesus all my cares, all my fears, and all of my plans.

Welcome to the Catholic Church, our treasured son. May the power of Jesus in the Eucharist bring you as much solace and security and faith as it has your parents. May you always know whose embrace to seek when days are hard and may you always look to the heavens with gratitude for your gifts. Dad, Mary Kate, Thomas and I (as well as our family), all know Jesus more because of you, His great gift to us.

Friday, March 21, 2014

Yesterday sucked. Today didn't. A lesson in hope.

Yesterday sucked. Absolutely sucked. "Sucks" was a forbidden word in our house growing up. But sometimes nothing else fits. Yesterday can't be described any other way. It started out wonderfully. I was awake before everyone in the house. I pumped before Timothy started crying. Mary Kate came down to breakfast on the table. If anything is a recipe for a good day, that is. Then about 11 minutes later, everything went to pot. Then it got worse. And even worse. And when I didn't think it could possibly get any worse? You guessed it. There was lots of crying. Lots of "I can't do this." Lots of anxiety. I read this post by Mama Needs Coffee and it fit perfectly.

The jury is out on whether I may have a touch of PPD. I will talk to the doctor soon because thou shalt not mess with that stuff. But today, today is different.

I woke up to flowers from Ross with a post it that said "Today is a new day." My precious friend Anna sent a text that said "Enjoy today." The sitter arrived and I took my girl to do some grocery shopping.

We met a friend for lunch and both big kids napped when I got home. While the big kids napped, I chatted with Timothy. I fed him while I read a "just for fun" book.  I said a few silent prayers to stop resisting the needs of my children, to embrace all.the.needy.  I don't feel fabulous today, but I don't feel like roadkill either. Life isn't easy but it's manageable. Yesterday, it was a slice o' hell.

The point in this rant is for the tired mama who will look back in a week, when another day just sucks. And it's for Mary Kate when she's a tired mama. There are horrid days of motherhood (or any job). But my senior yearbook quote said it perfectly, "The sun'll come out tomorrow."  The sun does come out. It may take a few days. It may take more than 2 nights of not getting up to feed a baby, or pop his paci back in, or turn him back onto his tummy. It may take more than the end of that 4th trimester of newborn chaos. But it does come back out.

Spring is here. Lent is nearly half over. New life is coming in every way. I hope that the next time a day is kicking my rear, I won't crawl into the hole that tells me the rest of my life will be like this. It's so easy to forget that the pain and frustration and anxiety and fatique is just temporary, in any situation. Bad days are followed by good days which are usually followed by bad days again. It's just life. The trick is not believing that any of it is permanent, enduring the bad in await for the good and then treasuring the good, for as long as we are blessed to have it.