But I forget how our twiny/two halves of the same egg connection can ground me, calm me, and make me feel (rightfully) whole again.

Relating to her as a wife and mother, and as a professional who also has a vision for her career – it reminds me in a way that no one else can, that I am not alone.  Because I have never been alone for one second in my existence, it has always been her and me.  (I know that God is always with us, and that we are not alone and I find strength in that, of course.  But we shared a womb, people!  That is powerful stuff!!)

In true Sissy fashion, her twiny-sense must have been tingling, and she saved me from myself once again.

Thank God for her.  A thousand times again and again, thank God for my sister.

:/

Let’s push pause, as I did, to consider that statement.

SOP readers know that I have not exactly been Little-Miss-Uplifiting of late.

I am not certain that “Defeated Realist” is really a description that women who gather are looking for in a speaker.

And who wants a woman who can’t even set herself right to be trying to tell them how to get happy over coffee and snacks in the middle of their very busy days?  The irony of the timing of her statement hung in my mind for quite a while as I considered her statement.

I gave my dear fan a combo snort/eyeroll as I smoothed Junior’s hat head unsuccessfully down.

But she had reasons.  Reasons that, while they did not convince me to get an agent and hit the coffee clatch circuit, did manage to let me see myself in a positive way from another set of eyes.

And it felt good to look at myself like that.

Evidently it is my realistic vision of situations, coupled with my ability to pair adversity with the possibility of His plan for promotion, (for others, although I have been horribly hard on myself about this,) that provoked this statement from a woman I don’t know well, but have always admired greatly.

Here is this woman who, to me looking at her from the outer edges of her life, seems SO incredibly put together, so very far beyond my league, and so “with it” in all ways, and she tells me that listening to me talk to others for the small amount of time each day that our lives intersect has a positive affect on the way she looks at her days.

Wow.

It seems trite to say something like “maybe I shouldn’t be so hard on myself after all,” or “maybe I am not the mess I think I am, eh?”    It is kind of more than that.

It’s a little shot of confidence, in a not-so-fabulous time.  A tiny reminder that we can all do something great for someone, just by being the best version of ourselves that we can, without even realizing what we are doing.

It’s nice to know.  That’s all, I  guess – it is just nice to know.

Or at least until I found something better than “Spirit of power,  my foot…  no spirit of power here!” to say.

I confess it seems that may not happen soon.

If I was in the “Footprints” poem, there would only be one set of footprints on my beach right now, because I do know that in spite of how crummy (or precisely because  of it, rather, ) He is carrying me, and Coop, and The Hub, and our little dog too, right on through this and into a time of prosperity.

I do know that in my heart, and even in my head most of the time.  Patience is not my strong suit, but I do know it still.

So I just keep trying to do all I can to not miss opportunities He may be sending me into, and doing my best impersonation of Susan from Miracle on 34th st.  “I believe…  I believe…. I know it’s silly, but I believe.”

It has been 2 years since I started SOP, determined to make positive changes that would allow for a more secure future for my family.

I confess, I feel like a failure.

I do not feel the “Spirit of Power” refered to in Timothy coursing through me – the start of another year leaves me feeling defeated and slightly embarrassed that my attempts have been so fruitless.

Junior is a wonderful addition to the family, and easily the single best thing I have ever done in my life.  Of course, the glory of a new life created really goes to someone much higher than even the almighty mom. 

But it leaves me wondering if God’s plan for me is, indeed, to have only one major accomplishment - being his mom.  Monetary success isn’t everything, sure, but it doesn’t hurt when it is time to pay the diaper and baby food bills either.

I know I am a good mom.  I know we are doing ok.

I just really believed that I would be able to help contribute to my family’s present and future security in a concrete manner – and 2 years with not one single gain seems to indicate significant failure.

That just stinks.

And his room was still very much a guest room – it is funny to remember it was ever filled with anything other than Cooper stuff and baby giggles.   I always liked that room, but now it looks kind of cold to me.

And Christmas just feels extra Christmas-y this year.  Every day might not be great, but there is something great in every day.   He is my “great.”   I love to look back at pictures like this and think about how far we have come as a family already, and get filled up again with the wonder of how truly blessed we are and have been.

Almost a year ago,  just when I was starting to relax a bit (sort of) in my pregnancy, this happened.

I can remember the panic, the fear, the desperation to just know what was happening like it was last week.   On Sunday I noticed that Rudolph was on for the first time of the season last night, and  I distinctly remembered laying on the sofa watching Rudolph last year - or facing the TV and realizing I was not-at-all watching Rudolph, and trying (and failing,) to not cry,  and praying that everything would be ok.  It was everything, EVERYTHING, and I was so scared he was slipping away.

I have thought a lot about that time in my pregnancy this month.  Through Cooper’s first few colds and tummy bugs and such, and through the cutting of his first teeth and the long nights and cranky days that can accompany those things.

I am sure that other scary things will happen, and I know there will be times when my nerves are frayed.   But oh how lucky I am to get the chance to be there for all of it.

I am just so very thankful that I get the privilege of worrying about him, of watching him grow, of  being his mom.  I am still just as blown away by the magnitude of God’s gift of getting to nurture this life as I was the first time I saw those two pink lines on the test.

Oh how I love him so.

The list goes on and on – because the little and big blessings in my life are so numerous that I am in awe – one month of writing it down daily is nice,  but really I could fill up pages every day with all I have to be thankful for.

Today I am thankful for a God that made this promise – and that I can rest my faith in it now and always.

I love celebrating the birth of  Jesus, being close to family and friends, seeing all the lights under blankets of snow, and just about everything the season has to offer.

This year being Coop’s first Christmas, I am especially excited to decorate and see how he reacts to all the lights and pretty trimmings.  I got him the Little People Nativity so he will have something to play with that isn’t off-limits. 

But decorating is going to take a lot of reorganizing this year – frankly our little condo is packed to overflowing with stuff already.  The place we usually put the tree is kind of the only good corner for his exersaucer – so that will have to find a new home (eek.)  There is just Cooper stuff everywhere.

Tradition is tradition, though – so we will make it work, and our home will be filled Christmas wonder and tradition, old and new this year.  I am thankful for that.